Harry Potter And The Second Chance
by ILRB80
Summary: Harry makes a different choice at Kings Cross. Armed with the knowledge of the next 16 years, Harry sets out to stop the second war from beginning by killing Voldemort
1. Prologue: The End And The Beginning

Prologue: The End And The Beginning.

Author's note.

This is my first fan fiction

I am very interested in Harry Potter time travel fan fictions. I have read many fan fictions when Harry makes a different choice at Kings Cross station, but sadly, those stories have been abandoned.

This is my version of it, and I will definitely not be abandoning it. I may take a break from posting chapters for a few months, but this story will never be abandoned.

Harry will run away from his aunt and uncle at a very young age. In Harry Potter and the Philosopher stone, it says that when his aunt made him nearly bald by cutting nearly all of his hair off, it grew back overnight. I have often wondered if Harry would be a medamorfigus because of that. Well, in my story he is.

I have made him question some of Dumbledore's decisions as well so no, he won't follow Albus blindly.

In my story, Dumbledore is not a bad person. He has good intentions, but he thinks that only he knows what is best. There will be a bit of Dumbledore bashing, but not much. He will still be manipulative, but in the end he will realise that he should have talked to other people instead of keeping everything close to his chest and doing what he thought was the right thing.

I haven't really decided about the pairing just yet but

Harry/Ginny will definitely be one of them.

Warning: there will be character deaths. Harry will kill death-eaters but he won't be evil.

On with the story. Hope you enjoy.

Prologue: The End And The Beginning.

May 2nd, 1998.

Harry.

Lying with my face pressed into the dusty carpet of the office where I had once thought I was learning the secrets of victory, I understood at last that I was not supposed to survive. My job was to walk calmly into Death's welcoming arms. Along the way, I was to dispose of Voldemort's remaining links to life, so that when at last I flung myself across Voldemort's path, and did not raise a wand to defend myself, the end would be clean, and the job that ought to have been done in Godric's Hollow sixteen years ago would be finished: Neither would live, neither would survive.

I felt my heart pounding fiercely in my chest. How strange that in my dread of death, it pumped all the harder, valiantly keeping me alive. But it would have to stop, and soon. Its beats were numbered. How many would there be time for, as I rose and walked through the castle for the last time, out into the grounds and into the forest?

Terror washed over me as I lay on the floor, with that funeral drum pounding inside me. Would it hurt to die? All those times I had thought that it was about to happen and escaped, I had never really thought of the thing itself: my will to live had always been so much stronger than my fear of death. Yet it did not occur to me now to try to escape, to outrun Voldemort. It was over, I knew it, and all that was left was the thing itself: dying.

If I could only have died on that summer's night when I had left number four, Privet Drive, for the last time, when the noble phoenix-feather wand had saved me! If I could only have died like Hedwig, so quickly I would not have known it had happened! Or if I could have launched myself in front of a wand to save someone I loved. I envied even my parents' deaths now. This cold-blooded walk to my own destruction would require a different kind of bravery. I felt my fingers trembling slightly and made an effort to control them, although no one could see me. The portraits on the walls were all empty.

Slowly, very slowly, I sat up, and as I did so, I felt more alive and more aware of my own living body than ever before. Why had I never appreciated what a miracle I was, brain, nerve, and beating heart? It would all be gone or at least, I would be gone from it. My breath came slow and deep, and my mouth and throat were completely dry, but so were my eyes.

Dumbledore's betrayal was almost nothing. Of course there had been a bigger plan; I had simply been too foolish to see it, I realized that now. I had never questioned my own assumption that Dumbledore wanted me alive. Now I saw that my life span had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate all the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had passed the job of destroying them to me, and obediently I had continued to chip away at the bonds tying not only Voldemort, but myself, to life! How neat, how elegant, not to waste any more lives, but to give the dangerous task to the boy who had already been marked for slaughter, and whose death would not be a calamity, but another blow against Voldemort.

Dumbledore had known that I would not duck out, that I would keep going to the end, even though it was my end, because he had taken trouble to get to know me, hadn't he? Dumbledore knew, as Voldemort knew, that I would not let anyone else die for me, now that I had discovered it was in my power to stop it.

The images of Fred, Remus, and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into my mind's eye, and for a moment I could hardly breathe: Death was impatient, but Dumbledore had overestimated me. I had failed: The snake survived. One Horcrux remained to bind Voldemort to the earth, even after I had been killed. True, that would mean an easier job for somebody. I wonder who would do it. Ron and Hermione would know what needed to be done, of course. That would have been why Dumbledore wanted me to confide in two others, so that if I fulfilled my true destiny a little earlier, they could carry on.

Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth, which was that I must die. I must die. It must end.

Ron and Hermione seemed a long way away, in a far-off country; I felt as though I had parted from them long ago. There would be no good-byes and no explanations, I was determined of that. This was a journey we could not take together, and the attempts they would make to stop me would waste valuable time. I looked down at the battered gold watch I had received on my seventeenth birthday from Mrs. Weasley. Nearly half of the hour allotted by Voldemort for my surrender had elapsed.

I stood up. My heart was leaping against my ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to fulfil a lifetime's beats before the end. I did not look back as I closed the office door.

The castle was empty. I felt ghostly striding through it alone, as if I had already died. The portrait people were still missing from their frames; the whole place was eerily still, as if all its remaining life were concentrated in the Great Hall where the dead and the mourners were crammed.

I pulled the Invisibility Cloak over myself and descended through the floors, at last walking down the marble staircase into the entrance hall. Perhaps some tiny part of me hoped to be sensed, to be seen, to be stopped, but the Cloak was, as ever, impenetrable, perfect, and I reached the front doors easily.

I stopped and started thinking about my whole life.

Dumbledore had been the one who had left me at the Dursleys. He also knew that I wouldn't be treated right. His words came back to me. "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well… not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."

If Dumbledore had truly cared about me, why had he not researched other ways of getting the Horcrux out of my head?

I thought back to second year. Phoenix tears could heal all wounds. It was dangerous but it could have worked. Dumbledore could have lightly stabbed the scar with Gryffindor's sword, waited for the Horcrux to be destroyed, then let Fawkes cry on the scar and heal it.

Or, perhaps, Dumbledore had guessed that somehow, I would make it out alive? I have survived the killing curse before and so maybe, just maybe, the killing curse would get rid of the horcrux? Voldemort would, of course, not be prepared for me to have survived the killing curse once again, which would then give me an opportunity to take him down for good? Yes, I was pretty sure that this was Dumbledore's plan.

I also had my doubts about this plan, when the conversation between Snape and Dumbledore started repeating in my head.

"on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily Potter cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die. Voldemort himself must kill him. That is essential."

"So the boy must die?"

"Yes."

"I thought all these years that we were protecting him for her. For Lily."

"We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strengths. Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort."

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save. You have used me."

"Meaning?"

"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter?"

"But this is touching, Severus, Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

The truth was that Dumbledore had raised me like a pig for slaughter. He had not denied it. Maybe it was for the best, I told myself. Because Dumbledore was right. If I had known before, I seriously would not have the strength to do what had to be done.

For the first time, I felt sorry for Snape. I was not the only one who was being manipulated by Dumbledore. Snape was manipulated worse than me. He was risking his life just to keep me safe and then finding out that it was basically for nothing because I was meant to die all along. The man had still spied for Dumbledore after knowing the truth. No wonder the man was so bitter. He was neglected as a child, bullied at Hogwarts by the Marauders, loved a woman who cut ties with him after he had called her mud-blood by accident, and knew that he was partially responsible for the death of Lily Evans, the only person who he had truly loved. Yes, Snape was a brave man, there was no doubt about that. But despite knowing the truth, I would not go out of my way to be nice to the man.

So many people had died in this war. My parents, Cedric, Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Dobby, Mad-Eye Moody, Snape, Dumbledore, ETC.

I saw Neville carrying Colin Creevey's body to the Great Hall. He was so small. Hell, he was not even of age yet. Voldemort wanted me. He had promised to stop attacking any of the students if I came to him.

I thought about those who had fallen. They had fought for what was write, knowing that they may die. If they could sacrifice themselves to make the world a better place, I could do that as well.

I checked my watch, I had 20 minutes left.

I quickly hurried to the forbidden forest.

At the edge of the forest, I stopped. A swarm of dementors was gliding amongst the trees. I could feel their chill, and I was not sure I would be able to pass safely through it. I knew that somehow I needed to go on. I could not let Voldemort win. Many people's lives were at stake and if Voldemort wasn't stopped, the world would be completely destroyed in a few years.

I checked my watch again. 10 minutes. There was no time to think about what could have been or what could be. The long game had ended, the Snitch had been caught, it was time to leave the air.

The Snitch. My nerveless fingers fumbled for a moment with the pouch at my neck and I pulled it out.

I read the message again. "I open at the close." I am ready to die," I whispered.

Everything then clicked into place, and suddenly, I knew what I needed to do.

I pressed my lips against it, and The metal shell broke open. I lowered my shaking hand, raised Draco's wand beneath the Cloak, and murmured, "Lumos."

The Resurrection stone sat in the two halves of the Snitch. It had cracked down the vertical line representing the Elder Wand but the triangle and circle representing the Cloak and the stone were still discernible.

Again I understood without having to think. It did not matter about bringing them back, for I was about to join them. I was not really fetching them; They were fetching me.

I closed my eyes and turned the stone over in my hand three times.

I knew it had happened, because I heard slight movements around me that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, twig-strewn ground that marked the outer edge of the forest. I opened my eyes and looked around.

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh, I could see that. They resembled most closely the Riddle that had escaped from the diary so long ago, and he had been memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved toward me, and on each face, there was the same loving smile.

Dad was exactly the same height as me. He was wearing the clothes in which he had died, and his hair was untidy and ruffled, and his glasses were a little lopsided, like Mr. Weasley's.

Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger by far than I had seen him in life. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

Remus was younger too, and much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked happy to be back in this familiar place, scene of so many adolescent wanderings.

Mom's smile was widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew close to me, and her green eyes, so like mine, searched my face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at me enough.

"You've been so brave."

I could not speak. My eyes feasted on her, and I thought that I would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.

"You are nearly there," said Dad. "Very close. We are so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question had fallen from my lips before I could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over," said Remus.

"I didn't want you to die," I said. These words came without my volition. "Any of you. I'm sorry."

I addressed Remus more than any of them, beseeching him.

"Right after you'd had your son. Remus, I'm sorry."

"I am sorry too," said Remus. "Sorry I will never know him, but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."

A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the forest lifted the hair at my brow. I knew that they would not tell me to go, and that it would have to be my decision.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Until the very end," said dad.

"They won't be able to see you?" I asked.

"We are part of you," said Sirius. "Invisible to anyone else."

I looked at my mother.

"Stay close to me," I said quietly.

And I set off. The dementors' chill did not overcome me; I passed through it with my companions, and they acted like Patronuses to me, and together we marched through the old trees that grew closely together, their branches tangled, their roots gnarled and twisted underfoot. I clutched the Cloak tightly around me in the darkness, traveling deeper and deeper into the forest, with no idea where exactly Voldemort was, but sure that I would eventually find him. Beside me, making scarcely a sound, walked dad, Sirius, Remus, and mom, and their presence was my courage, and the reason I was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I followed Yaxley and Dolohov to the clearing where Aragog had once lived.

A fire burned in the middle of the clearing, and its flickering light fell over a crowd of completely silent, watchful Death Eaters. Some of them were still masked and hooded; others showed their faces. Two giants sat on the outskirts of the group, casting massive shadows over the scene, their faces cruel, rough-hewn like rock. Every eye was fixed upon Voldemort, who stood with his head bowed, and his white hands folded over the Elder Wand in front of him. He might have been praying, or else counting silently in his mind, and I, standing still on the edge of the scene, thought absurdly of a child counting in a game of hide-and-seek. Behind his head, still swirling and coiling, the great snake Nagini floated in her glittering, charmed cage, like a monstrous halo.

I put The Resurrection Stone in my pouch.

When Dolohov and Yaxley rejoined the circle, Voldemort looked up.

"No sign of him, my Lord," said Dolohov.

Voldemort's expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. Slowly he drew the Elder Wand between his long fingers.

"My Lord."

Bellatrix had spoken: She sat closest to Voldemort, dishevelled, her face a little bloody but otherwise unharmed.

I was furious when I saw Bellatrix. I knew that I was going to die but I was determined to take as many death-eaters with me as I could.

I looked the insane witch full in the face. I was reluctant to cast the curse but then I thought of all the people she had killed and tortured. Neville's parents lying in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries because she along with her husband, brother-in-law, and Barty Crouch junior had decided to torture them into insanity just because they couldn't tell them where their lord was.

Sirius falling through the vail after she hit him with the killing curse, the word mudblood carved into Hermione's arm, poor Dobby. His death was the worst. She had thrown the knife at him and he had died because the knife had plunged into his chest.

So many other things that she could have done raced through my mind.

It was time to fight fire with fire now. What was the point of capturing them anyway? If they escaped Azkaban or if they were rescued from Azkaban, they would still kill people. Even after what Bellatrix had done, I didn't want to kill her. Cause her pain, yes but not kill her. I didn't want to kill Voldemort either but I had to because of that stupid prophesy.

I was going to become a murder anyway. There was no denying it.

So I raised my wand and thought about all the people I loved. All the people who had died. All the pain that the Dursley's had inflicted upon me, and Dolores Umbridge revelling in the misery she along with the death-eaters inflicted on muggle-borns.

I raised Draco's wand, pointed it at Bellatrix's chest, and thinking about how much I hated the woman cast the curse.

"Avada kedavra," Green light flashed around the clearing and Bellatrix Lestrange, lord Voldemort's most loyal death-eater, fell to the floor with a thump which attracted Voldemort's attention to where she was standing.

"Nooooooo!" Voldemort screamed in fury after seeing the lifeless body of his most faithful servant and started sending killing curses left and right. Some of the death-eaters stepped out of the way or ducked, and some were not so lucky and got hit.

I stayed under the cloak, pointed the wand at Lucius Malfoy's throat and muttered, "Sectumsempra." In half a minute he was also dead.

I killed a few more death-eaters, took off the cloak and smirked at Voldemort. "How does it feel to have your most faithful servants die, Tom?

Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found me, and he stared as I moved toward him, with nothing but the fire between us.

Then a voice yelled: "HARRY! NO!"

I turned: Hagrid was bound and trussed, tied to a tree nearby. His massive body shook the branches overhead as he struggled desperately.

"NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH?"

"QUIET!" shouted Rowle, and with a flick of his wand Hagrid was silenced.

The only things that moved were the flames and the snake coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind Voldemort's head.

I could feel Draco's wand against my chest, but I made no attempt to draw it. I knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if I managed to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit me first.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I was going to die here anyway. I may as well let the curses hit me. Voldemort's arrogance surprised me yet again. He had protected the snake, but nothing could stop the unforgivables from destroying it so I waited for the right moment to strike. I was determined to take the snake with me, even if I had to die a very painful death. I owed it to my fallen friends, to Albus Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, my parents, and Teddy.

I was sure that Hermione and the rest of the Weasley's along with Andromeda would look after him

Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering me, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth.

"Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy who lived, come to die."

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting, Hagrid was struggling, and I thought inexplicably of Ginny, her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on mine.

I moved slightly closer to the snake. This was it. These were my final moments of life before I willingly walked into death's arms.

Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. I looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while I could still stand, before I lost control, before I betrayed fear.

"Avada kedavra!" Voldemort bellowed and the green light zoomed towards me.

Already having my wand pointed at the snake had made the job much easier. "Avada kedavra," I muttered.

I saw the bright jet of green light go through Voldemort's shields and curses like they were water. Finally the green light hit it's mark and the snake fell down dead. A loud screech was heard as the black cloud of smoke which formed into Voldemort's face give an inhuman scream before disappearing.

I, however, did not manage to see all of the smoke disappear because Voldemort's killing curse hit me right over my heart. The last thing I heard was Voldemort's scream of fury before I faded into the blissfulness of unconsciousness.

I lay face down, listening to the silence. I was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. I was not perfectly sure that I was there myself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to me that I must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because I was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore I had a sense of touch, and the thing against which I lay existed too.

Almost as soon as I had reached this conclusion, I became conscious that I was naked. Convinced as I was of my total solitude, this did not concern me, but it did intrigue me slightly.

I wondered whether, as I could feel, I would be able to see. In opening them, I discovered that I had eyes.

I lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist I had ever experienced before. My surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapour; rather the cloudy vapour had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which I lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.

I sat up. My body appeared unscathed. I touched my face. I was not wearing glasses anymore.

Then a noise reached me through the unformed nothingness that surrounded me: the small soft thumping's of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

For the first time, I wished I were clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in my head then robes appeared a short distance away. I took them and pulled them on: They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared, just like that, the moment I had wanted them.

I stood up, looking around. Was I in some great Room of Requirement? The longer I looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above me in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist.

I turned slowly on the spot, and my surroundings seemed to invent themselves before my eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear, domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. I was the only person there, except for.

I recoiled. I had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, and struggling for breath.

I was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, I did not want to approach it. Nevertheless I drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon I stood near enough to touch it, yet I could not bring myself to do it. I felt like a coward. I ought to comfort it, but it repulsed me.

"You cannot help."

I spun around. Albus Dumbledore was walking toward me, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

"Harry." He spread his arms wide, and his hands were both whole and white and undamaged. "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

I followed as Dumbledore strode away from where the flayed child lay whimpering, leading me to two seats that I had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling. Dumbledore sat down in one of them, and I fell into the other, staring at my old headmaster's face.

Dumbledore's long silver hair and beard, the piercingly blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, the crooked nose: Everything was as I had remembered it. And yet.

"But you're dead," I said.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

"Then, I'm dead too?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not."

We looked at each other, the old man still beaming.

"Not?" I asked.

"Not," said Dumbledore.

"But I raised my hand instinctively toward the lightning scar. It did not seem to be there. "But I should have died, I didn't defend myself! I let him kill me!"

"And that," said Dumbledore, "will, I think, have made all the difference."

Happiness seemed to radiate from Dumbledore like light, like fire: I had never seen the man so utterly, so palpably content.

"Explain," I said.

"But you already know," said Dumbledore. He twiddled his thumbs together.

"I let him kill me. Didn't I?" I said.

"You did," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Go on!" "So the part of his soul that was in me." Dumbledore nodded still more enthusiastically, urging me onward, a broad smile of encouragement on his face. "Has it gone?"

"Oh yes!" said Dumbledore. "Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is not quite whole, but completely your own, Harry."

"But then."

I glanced over his shoulder to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair.

"What is that, Professor?"

"Something that is beyond either of our help," said Dumbledore. "That is the part of Voldemort sent here to die.

"But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse," I started again, "and nobody died for me this time, how can I be alive?"

"I think you know," said Dumbledore. "Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and his cruelty."

I thought about it. I let my gaze drift over my surroundings. If it was indeed a palace in which we sat, it was an odd one, with chairs set in little rows and bits of railing here and there, and still Dumbledore, the stunted creature, and I under the chair were the only beings there. Then the answer rose to my lips easily without effort.

"He took my blood," I said.

"Precisely!" said Dumbledore. "He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily's protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!"

"I live while he lives? But I thought, I thought it was the other way round! I thought we both had to die? Or is it the same thing?"

"You were the seventh Horcrux, Harry, the Horcrux he never meant to make. He had rendered his soul so unstable that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil, the murder of your parents, the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that room was even less than he knew. He left more than his body behind. He left part of himself latched to you, the would-be victim who had survived.

"And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Harry! That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped.

"He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment your mother laid upon you when she died for you. His body keeps her sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you, and so does Voldemort's one last hope for himself."

"So, you mean to tell me that my mother's protection did not break when I turned seventeen?" I asked him angrily.

"No, my dear boy," he said. "Lily's protection, if I am correct, would have survived until you or Voldemort died. You may be wondering, Harry, why, when you turned seventeen, the order sent the Dursleys into hiding and took you away. My answer is that the blood wards that I had put around you're aunt and uncle's house sixteen years ago broke. And now that you have allowed Voldemort to kill you, Lily's protection is completely gone, forever.

Dumbledore smiled at me, and I stared at him.

"And you knew this? You knew all along that I was going to survive?"

"I guessed. But my guesses have usually been good," said Dumbledore happily.

we sat in silence for what seemed like a long time, while the creature behind us continued to whimper and tremble.

"There's more," I said. "There's more to it. Why did my wand break the wand he borrowed?"

"As to that, I cannot be sure."

"Have a guess, then," I said, and Dumbledore laughed.

"What you must understand, Harry, is that you and Lord Voldemort have journeyed together into realms of magic hitherto unknown and untested. But here is what I think happened, and it is unprecedented, and no wand maker could, I think, ever have predicted it or explained it to Voldemort.

"Without meaning to, as you now know, Lord Voldemort strengthened the bond between you when he returned to a human form. A part of his soul was still attached to yours, and, thinking to strengthen himself, he took a part of your mother's sacrifice into himself. If he could only have understood the precise and terrible power of that sacrifice, he would not, perhaps, have dared to touch your blood. But then, if he had been able to understand, he could not be Lord Voldemort, and may never have murdered at all.

"Having ensured this two-fold connection, having wrapped your destinies together more securely than ever two wizards were joined in history, Voldemort proceeded to attack you with a wand that shared a core with yours. And now something very strange happened, as we know. The cores reacted in a way that Lord Voldemort, who never knew that your wand was twin of his, had never expected.

"He was more afraid than you were that night, Harry. You had accepted, even embraced, the possibility of death, something Lord Voldemort has never been able to do. Your courage won, your wand overpowered his. And in doing so, something happened between those wands, something that echoed the relationship between their masters.

"I believe that your wand imbibed some of the power and qualities of Voldemort's wand that night, which is to say that it contained a little of Voldemort himself. So your wand recognized him when he pursued you, recognized a man who was both kin and mortal enemy, and it regurgitated some of his own magic against him, magic much more powerful than anything Lucius's wand had ever performed. Your wand now contained the power of your enormous courage and of Voldemort's own deadly skill: What chance did that poor stick of Lucius Malfoy's stand?"

"But if my wand was so powerful, how come Hermione was able to break it?"

"My dear boy, its remarkable effects were directed only at Voldemort, who had tampered so ill-advisedly with the deepest laws of magic. Only toward him was that wand abnormally powerful. Otherwise it was a wand like any other. Though a good one, I am sure," Dumbledore finished kindly.

I sat in thought for a long time, or perhaps seconds. It was very hard to be sure of things like time here.

"He killed me with your wand."

"He failed to kill you with my wand," Dumbledore corrected me. "I think we can agree that you are not dead though, of course," he added, as if fearing he had been discourteous, "I do not minimize your sufferings, which I am sure were severe."

"I feel great at the moment, though," I said, looking down at my clean, unblemished hands. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Well, I was going to ask you that," said Dumbledore, looking around. "Where would you say that we are?"

Until Dumbledore had asked, I had not known. Now, however, I found that I had an answer ready to give.

"It looks," I said slowly, "like King's Cross station. Except a lot cleaner and empty, and there are no trains as far as I can see."

"King's Cross station!" Dumbledore was chuckling immoderately. "Good gracious, really?"

"Well, where do you think we are?" I asked, a little defensively.

"My dear boy, I have no idea. This is, as they say, your party."

I had no idea what this meant; Dumbledore was being infuriating. I glared at him, then remembered a much more pressing question than that of our current location.

"The Deathly Hallows," I said, and I was glad to see that the words wiped the smile from Dumbledore's face.

"Ah, yes," he said. He even looked a little worried.

"Well?"

For the first time since I had met Dumbledore, he looked less than an old man, much less. He looked fleetingly like a small boy caught in wrongdoing.

"Can you forgive me?" he said. "Can you forgive me for not trusting you? For not telling you? Harry, I only feared that you would fail as I had failed. I only dreaded that you would make my mistakes. I crave your pardon, Harry. I have known, for some time now, that you are the better man."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, startled by his tone, by the sudden tears in his eyes.

"The Hallows, the Hallows," murmured Dumbledore. "A desperate man's dream!"

"But they're real!"

"Real, and dangerous, and a lure for fools," said Dumbledore. "And I was such a fool. But you know, don't you? I have no secrets from you anymore. You know."

"What do I know?"

Dumbledore turned his whole body to face me, and tears still sparkled in the brilliantly blue eyes.

"Master of death, Harry, master of Death! Was I better, ultimately, than Voldemort?"

"Of course you were," I said. "Of course, how can you ask that?

"True, true," said Dumbledore, and he was like a child seeking reassurance. "Yet I too sought a way to conquer death, Harry."

"Not the way he did," I said. After all my anger at Dumbledore, how odd it was to sit here, beneath the high, vaulted ceiling, and defend him from himself. "Hallows, not Horcruxes."

"Hallows," murmured Dumbledore, "not Horcruxes. Precisely."

There was a pause. The creature behind us whimpered, but I no longer looked around.

"Grindelwald was looking for them too?" I asked.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment and nodded.

"It was the thing, above all, that drew us together," he said quietly. "Two clever, arrogant boys with a shared obsession. He wanted to come to Godric's Hollow, as I am sure you have guessed, because of the grave of Ignotus Peverell. He wanted to explore the place the third brother had died."

"So it's true?" I asked. "All of it? The Peverell brothers,"

"were the three brothers of the tale," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Oh yes, I think so. Whether they met Death on a lonely road, I think it more likely that the Peverell brothers were simply gifted, dangerous wizards who succeeded in creating those powerful objects. The story of them being Death's own Hallows seems to me the sort of legend that might have sprung up around such creations.

"The Cloak, as you know now, travelled down through the ages, father to son, mother to daughter, right down to Ignotus's last living descendant, who was born, as Ignotus was, in the village of Godric's Hollow."

Dumbledore smiled at me.

"Me?" I asked.

"You. You have guessed, I know, why the Cloak was in my possession on the night your parents died. James had showed it to me just a few days previously. It explained much of his undetected wrongdoing at school. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I asked to borrow it, to examine it. I had long since given up my dream of uniting the Hallows, but I could not resist; could not help taking a closer look. It was a Cloak the likes of which I had never seen, immensely old, perfect in every respect, and then your father died, and I had two Hallows at last, all to myself!"

His tone was unbearably bitter.

"The Cloak wouldn't have helped them survive, though," I said quickly. "Voldemort knew where my Mom and Dad were. The Cloak couldn't have made them curse-proof."

"True," sighed Dumbledore. "True."

I waited, but Dumbledore did not speak, so I prompted him.

"So you'd given up looking for the Hallows when you saw the Cloak?"

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore faintly. He forced himself to meet my eyes. "You know what happened. You know. You cannot despise me more than I despise myself."

"But I don't despise you. I am not happy with you, but I will never despise you. I know that you are not god. You are human and of course you make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. But there were many things that you could have done differently though."

He sighed.

"Yes, dear boy, there was a lot that I could have done differently."

After a few minutes of silence he continued. "You know the secret of my sister's ill health, what those Muggles did, what she became. You know how my poor father sought revenge, and paid the price, died in Azkaban. You know how my mother gave up her own life to care for Ariana.

"I resented it, Harry."

Dumbledore stated it baldly, coldly. He was looking now over the top of my head, into the distance.

"I was gifted, I was brilliant. I wanted to escape. I wanted to shine. I wanted glory.

"Do not misunderstand me," he said, and pain crossed the face so that he looked ancient again. "I loved them. I loved my parents, I loved my brother and my sister, but I was selfish, Harry, more selfish than you, who are a remarkably selfless person, could possibly imagine.

"So that, when my mother died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother, I returned to my village in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought! And then, of course, he came."

Dumbledore looked directly into my eyes again.

"Grindelwald. You cannot imagine how his ideas caught me, Harry, inflamed me. Muggles forced into subservience. We wizards triumphant. Grindelwald and I, the glorious young leaders of the revolution.

"Oh, I had a few scruples. I assuaged my conscience with empty words. It would all be 'for the greater good,' and any harm done would be repaid a hundredfold in benefits for wizards. Did I know, in my heart of hearts, what Gellert Grindelwald was? I think I did, but I closed my eyes. If the plans we were making came to fruition, all my dreams would come true.

"And at the heart of our schemes, the Deathly Hallows! How they fascinated him, how they fascinated both of us! The unbeatable wand, the weapon that would lead us to power! The Resurrection Stone, to him, though I pretended not to know it, it meant an army of Inferi! To me, I confess, it meant the return of my parents, and the lifting of all responsibility from my shoulders.

"And the Cloak. We never discussed the Cloak much, Harry. Both of us could conceal ourselves well enough without the Cloak, the true magic of which, of course, is that it can be used to protect and shield others as well as its owner. I thought that, if we ever found it, it might be useful in hiding Ariana, but our interest in the Cloak was mainly that it completed the trio, for the legend said that the man who united all three objects would then be truly master of death, which we took to mean invincible.

"Invincible masters of death, Grindelwald and Dumbledore! Two months of insanity, of cruel dreams, and neglect of the only two members of my family left to me. Then, you know what happened. Reality returned in the form of my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable brother. I did not want to hear the truths he shouted at me. I did not want to hear that I could not set forth to seek Hallows with a fragile and unstable sister in tow.

"The argument became a fight. Grindelwald lost control. That which I had always sensed in him, though I pretended not to, now sprang into terrible being. And Ariana. After all my mother's care and caution lay dead upon the floor."

Dumbledore gave a little gasp and began to cry in earnest. I reached out and was glad to find that I could touch him: He gripped my arm tightly and he gradually regained control.

"Well, Grindelwald fled, as anyone but I could have predicted. He vanished, with his plans for seizing power, and his schemes for Muggle torture, and his dreams of the Deathly Hallows, dreams in which I had encouraged him and helped him. He ran, while I was left to bury my sister, and learn to live with my guilt and my terrible grief, the price of my shame.

"Years passed. There were rumours about him. They said he had procured a wand of immense power. I, meanwhile, was offered the post of Minister of Magic, not once, but several times. Naturally, I refused. I had learned that I was not to be trusted with power."

"But you would have been better than Fudge or Scrimgeour!" I said.

"Would I?" asked Dumbledore heavily. "I am not so sure. I had proven, as a very young man that power was my weakness and my temptation. It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.

"I was safer at Hogwarts. I think I was a good teacher."

"Yes you were," I said. Dumbledore continued.

While I busied myself with the training of young wizards, Grindelwald was raising an army. They say he feared me, and perhaps he did, but less, I think, than I feared him.

"Oh, not death," said Dumbledore, in answer to my questioning look. "Not what he could do to me magically. I knew that we were evenly matched, perhaps that I was a shade more skilful. It was the truth I feared. You see, I never knew which of us, in that last, horrific fight, had actually cast the curse that killed my sister. You may call me cowardly; you would be right. Harry, I dreaded beyond all things the knowledge that it had been I who brought about her death, not merely through my arrogance and stupidity, but that I actually struck the blow that snuffed out her life.

"I think he knew it, I think he knew what frightened me. I delayed meeting him until finally, it would have been too shameful to resist any longer. People were dying and he seemed unstoppable, and I had to do what I could.

"Well, you know what happened next. I won the duel. I won the wand."

Another silence. I did not ask whether Dumbledore had ever found out who struck Ariana dead. I did not want to know, and even less did I want Dumbledore to have to tell me. At last, I knew what Dumbledore would have seen when he looked into the Mirror of Erised, and why he had been so understanding of the fascination it had exercised over me.

We sat in silence for a long time, and the whimpering's of the creature behind us barely disturbed me anymore.

At last I said, "Grindelwald tried to stop Voldemort going after the wand. He lied, you know, pretended he had never had it."

Dumbledore nodded, looking down at his lap, tears still glittering on the crooked nose.

"They say he showed remorse in later years, alone in his cell at Nurmengard. I hope that it is true. I would like to think he did feel the horror and shame of what he had done. Perhaps that lie to Voldemort was his attempt to make amends to prevent Voldemort from taking the Hallow."

"Or maybe from breaking into your tomb?" I suggested, and Dumbledore dabbed his eyes.

After another short pause I said, "You tried to use the Resurrection Stone."

Dumbledore nodded.

"When I discovered it, after all those years, buried in the abandoned home of the Gaunts, the Hallow I had craved most of all, though in my youth I had wanted it for very different reasons, I lost my head, Harry. I quite forgot that it was now a Horcrux, that the ring was sure to carry a curse. I picked it up, and I put it on, and for a second I imagined that I was about to see Ariana, and my mother, and my father, and to tell them how very, very sorry I was.

"I was such a fool, Harry. After all those years I had learned nothing. I was unworthy to unite the Deathly Hallows, I had proved it time and again, and here was final proof."

"Why?" I said. "It was natural! You wanted to see them again. What's wrong with that?"

"Maybe a man in a million could unite the Hallows, Harry. I was fit only to possess the meanest of them, the least extraordinary. I was fit to own the Elder Wand, and not to boast of it, and not to kill with it. I was permitted to tame and to use it, because I took it, not for gain, but to save others from it.

"But the Cloak, I took out of vain curiosity, and so it could never have worked for me as it works for you, its true owner. The stone I would have used in an attempt to drag back those who are at peace, rather than to enable my self-sacrifice, as you did. You are the worthy possessor of the Hallows."

Dumbledore patted my hand, and I looked up at him and smiled; I could not help myself. How could I remain angry with Dumbledore now?

"Why did you have to make it so difficult?"

Dumbledore's smile was tremulous.

"I am afraid I counted on Miss Granger to slow you up, Harry. I was afraid that your hot head might dominate your good heart. I was scared that, if presented outright with the facts about those tempting objects, you might seize the Hallows as I did, at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. If you laid hands on them, I wanted you to possess them safely. You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying."

"And Voldemort never knew about the Hallows?"

"I do not think so, because he did not recognize the Resurrection Stone he turned into a Horcrux. But even if he had known about them, Harry, I doubt that he would have been interested in any of them except the wand. He would not think that he needed the Cloak, and as for the stone, whom would he want to bring back from the dead? He fears the dead. He does not love."

"But you expected him to go after the wand?"

"I have been sure that he would try, ever since your wand beat Voldemort's in the graveyard of Little Hangleton. At first, he was afraid that you had conquered him by superior skill. Once he had kidnapped Ollivander, however, he discovered the existence of the twin cores. He thought that explained everything. Yet the borrowed wand did no better against yours! So Voldemort, instead of asking himself what quality it was in you that had made your wand so strong, what gift you possessed that he did not, naturally set out to find the one wand that, they said, would beat any other. For him, the Elder Wand has become an obsession to rival his obsession with you. He believes that the Elder Wand removes his last weakness and makes him truly invincible. Poor Severus."

"If you planned your death with Snape, you meant him to end up with the Elder Wand, didn't you?"

"I admit that was my intention," said Dumbledore, "but it did not work as I intended, did it?"

"No," I said. "That bit didn't work out."

The creature behind us jerked and moaned. Dumbledore and I sat without talking for the longest time yet. The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over me in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.

"I've got to go back, haven't I?" I asked, weighing the day's revelations in my mind.

"That is up to you," Dumbledore replied.

"I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at me. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to... let's say... board a train."

I nodded, thoughtfully. "And where would it take me?"

"On," Dumbledore said simply.

Silence fell again, as I worked out how to ask my next question. "Voldemort's got the Elder Wand."

"True. Voldemort has the Elder Wand."

"But you want me to go back?"

"I think," said Dumbledore, "that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does."

I glanced again at the raw-looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair.

"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say good-bye for the present."

"Do I have to go back to the exact moment I was cursed? Or is there really some extra benefit to mastering all three Hallows instead of just one or two? I'm not invincible, obviously, but can I choose when I want to wake up?"

Dumbledore frowned at me. "The Hallows have not been united since the deaths of the Peverell brothers," he answered. "There is no certain lore on the subject, though I would not discount the possibility even if that were not the original intention. We are speaking of deep, uncharted magic; as you have already discovered, that counts more than words at such a level. However, I do not see why you would wish to delay your revival. There is no predicting what might occur while your body lies abandoned; you could re-join it half an hour after your encounter with Voldemort, only to find Hogwarts in ruins at his feet."

"That's not what I meant, either." I shook my head, then took a deep breath. "What if I want to go backwards, instead of forwards?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment; he looked very grave. "Harry, you know the risks of time travel are very severe."

"I've thought this over," I insisted. "More than once, actually; I've wondered what might have happened if I'd stolen a time turner from the Department of Mysteries when we went there looking for Sirius. See, the problem with going back in time is that if you change things you might stop yourself from going back in the first place, and that would create a paradox, so I couldn't have done anything useful with one anyway. But this, I wouldn't be sending anything physical back. Just my soul and memories. It'd be like waking up from a very long vision, not like time travel at all, really."

Dumbledore considered that. "What led you to believe this might be possible?"

"Merlin, actually," I said, shrugging. "Some of the Muggle legends say he lived backward in time. I don't know if that's true, I've never read the wizarding version, but Hermione says that legends always have some basis in fact. It just made sense to me that there might be a way to send information back, not to avoid death exactly, but to undo some of the suffering that happened along the way. It's like you said; there are far worse things in the living world than dying."

And my friends and I have seen more than our fair share of them, I did not add, but was sure the professor understood.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "And due to the manner in which you reached this place, you would return without the fragment of Voldemort's soul that made so much of your suffering necessary. I quite see your point, my boy, but I must warn you, such a path would be fraught with even more danger than simply returning now, and I could not say what might happen when you reached this time once more."

I thought for a moment of all the things that might go wrong, all the victories as well as tragedies that would be undone, all the Horcruxes I would have to find once again. Then I pictured Cedric's face, slackened in death, Sirius' eyes, wide with shock, as he fell into the veil, Dumbledore himself toppling from the Astronomy Tower, Mad-Eye Moody's eye, mounted like a trophy in Voldemort's Ministry, Dobby's dead body with Bellatrix's knife sticking out of his chest, Nagini's fangs piercing Snape's neck, Fred, Remus, and Tonks, laid out in the Great Hall, and Neville carrying little Colin Creevey.

"It's worth it," I said, filled with conviction. It didn't matter what happened to me. I had already made my peace with the necessity of my death. The others had deserved better.

"Very well, then. I only suggest that, should it work, you find someone trustworthy in whom to confide, and that you choose your moment very carefully.

A sense of disbelief momentarily gripped me, leaving me speechless. Somehow, despite how often my instincts had been right over the last two years, I had not quite believed that such a thing might actually be possible. Yet, if Dumbledore was right, there really was a chance I could do it. I could be 1 again, back at the beginning of everything.

How could I resist? Hermione would chide me again about my hero complex, but it was as much a part of me as the colour of my eyes.

Another pang shot through me; I had been through so much with Ron and Hermione, and neither of them would remember any of this. They wouldn't remember what they had been to me or each other, or anything they'd learned; they'd be just a pair of eleven year old wizards looking forward to going to Hogwarts. Ginny would no longer be the fiery young woman I loved; she would be a little girl again with a blind crush on the wizarding world's hero. Could I really do this without their support?

I swallowed hard. Of course I could. I had to. And besides, even if they wouldn't be the same people I had leaned on so much over the last six years, they would still be there. They would still be my friends. I would just have to make sure they became the people I knew they could be, that was all.

Dumbledore and I stood up and we looked for a long moment into each other's faces. I finally understood something. Dumbledore had been thrust into the spotlight, just like me. I had been the boy who lived, Dumbledore had been the person who had defeated Grindelwald. He had been given positions of power. He had lead people for a long time. He manipulated people but he was trying to do the best for everyone. He could have done better but there really was no point in thinking about what could have been. I had come to terms with Dumbledore's decisions. I had forgiven him, but I would not forget. "Thank you for everything, sir," I said.

Then I closed my eyes and concentrated very firmly on October 31st, 1981. I was determined not to get beaten that much by my relatives and actually do well in school this time around.

The brightness around me increased, then dimmed. Suddenly, I saw Sirius. He was handing me over to Hagrid.

I felt very tired so I just fell asleep.


	2. 1: Godric's Hollow, Trial, And Sorting

Chapter One: Godric's Hollow, The Trial, And The Sorting.

Review answers.

Sara: Thanks I am glad that you like the story.

Mich240: I know that I can do whatever I want and not what other people want me to do but this is what I want to write. Thanks. I am glad that you find this story interesting.

jadely31: Harry will have a better life in this story but I have to put some stuff that is unexpected. If I didn't do that then this story won't be that interesting. I will not go right into relationships, in fact I won't have much stuff about relationships because I am not good at writing stuff like that.

You don't have to thank me for thinking up this story. I am doing it for my enjoyment. I am glad you like it.

grendakg7: In this story, I am not going to have Draco and Hermione in a relationship. If you want to read books with Draco/Hermione pairing then these are a few books that you might like.

Fixed Points By NoHinny, Isolation by Bex-chan, Macbeth by cyropi, Under and of the Stars by liliansilver, and An Unexpected Malfoy by RiverWriter.

Ermengarde de Neustrie: Thanks for pointing out the mistake. I have corrected it.

In my story, Dumbledore is out of character but he is definitely not evil. I have read some of the fan fictions where Dumbledore is portrayed as a very evil person who just wants Harry to sacrifice himself for the greater good. To be honest, I really don't agree with that. Yes, Dumbledore is manipulative, at times, misguided, but one thing he definitely not is, is evil.

Tracey Young: Yes, I will continue this story.

Chapter One: Godric's Hollow, The Trial, And The Sorting.

November 2nd, 1981.

I heard Aunt Petunia scream and yell. "Vernon! It's Lily's freak child! The freaks have dumped him on our doorstep!" After Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon read the letter, they locked me up in the cupboard under the stairs.

Here we go again. I thought. I was determined to leave this place after a few years.

January 1st, 1985.

I had discovered a few things about myself over the next few years. Since the Horcrux had disappeared, I was more powerful, a medamorfigus, I could do wandless magic, and I could control my magic.

I was not beaten, although I was always getting insulted. All it took was no accidental magic, no crying, no asking questions, and following all instructions to not get beaten. I was still given Dudley's old castoff's, the left overs of the food, and I still had to do all the chores while Dudley did nothing.

It was a few minutes past midnight, and I quietly went into my Uncle's room. I waved my hand and made myself invisible, then I stole 1000 Pounds, grabbed some food from the refrigerator, and after searching for a bit, I found the letter that Dumbledore had written to Aunt Petunia.

I opened it and started to read.

Dear Petunia.

I have thought long and hard this past day about an appropriate way to start this letter and I realised, unsurprisingly, that the truth is of the utmost importance.

A Truth that I will share with you now is that, to this day, I still have the letter you wrote to me all those years ago. I cherish it and it often brings a smile to my face and regret to my heart. I smile at your eager words and your desire to learn, and I regret not being able to invite you to Hogwarts.

Another Truth is that the baby that I have left sleeping on your doorstep is your nephew, Harry James Potter. He is not much older than your own son, I believe.

The third Truth I share with you is a painful one, and one that I am neither brave enough nor strong enough to tell you in person, and one I believe you will know to be true before even reading this letter.

Lily and James are no longer with us.

To say that my heart is heavy as I write these words is an understatement of what your sister and brother-in-law meant to me. As their teacher and friend, I have watched them grow, mature, and blossom from excitable children to determined leaders. From playing pranks on their friends and colleagues to risking their lives to protect people from Lord Voldemort and his followers.

I know that things were difficult between Lily and yourself in recent years. I do not believe any of that now matters. I only know that Harry needs you.

When Lily Potter sacrificed herself to save Harry, she left him with a lingering protection that Voldemort will not expect, a protection that flows through his veins. I have put my trust in his mother's blood. That is why I have delivered him to you. Her only remaining relative. Magic can do many things, and magic bonded by blood is magic that can protect, and it is that protection that Harry now needs. Protection that only you can give him.

I ask you to look after your nephew.

Once you take him in, it will sealed the charm I have placed upon him.

The bond of blood is the strongest shield I could give him.

For a long time, the world of magic has been in turmoil. A Dark Wizard, calling himself Lord Voldemort had brought about a reign of terror that threatened to engulf our world and your world. Lily and James were among those who have strived against this wizard and his followers, and it was he, himself, who took them from us.

When Lord Voldemort fired the killing curse at Harry, the curse bounced back and hit Voldemort instead. The world believes Voldemort to be dead; I do not.

These are the Truths that I am sharing with you, Petunia, and I do so with the hope that you will leave your animosity with Lily in the past and allow Harry refuge and a home. The magic Lily evoked protects Harry until he comes of age, as long as Harry calls home the place where his mother's blood dwelves, there he cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort or his followers.

I only ask one favour of you, Petunia, and that is to treat your nephew as if he were your own.

Yours sincerely: Albus Dumbledore

I packed up everything in a backpack and walked out of Number four, Privet Drive for the very last time.

I closed my eyes and in a few seconds, I had shoulder-length dark red hair and brown eyes.

The first thing I did was to buy myself clothes that could fit a five year old and clothes that could fit a teenager.

I thought about what name I was going to use.

After a moment, I decided on Fred Smith.

The only thing I needed now was a place to live.

I decided to go and live in my cottage in Godric's Hollow. No one would expect me to be living where my parents died.

I aparated right outside of Godric's Hollow.

Godric's Hollow was small and quiet, and it somehow looked brighter than last time I was here, without the war to dampen the village spirit. I passed the sign that read, "Welcome to Godric's Hollow." As I walked along the rows of houses, I tried to prepare myself for what I was about to do. I was going to live in the house where my parents died. I figured it was better than camping out in the woods without a tent or trying to rent an apartment in London.

Finally, I saw it. The sad, small ruined house that stood at the end of the block. My heartbeat picked up as I walked to the house. It was exactly the same as how I last saw it. The high grass foretold the years the house had been abandoned. The upper right side of the house was caved in from the blast of the Killing Curse that rebounded off my forehead. I shivered as memories of that night flashed through my mind. I placed a hand on the gate and the familiar sign sprang up to greet me. I read the words carved into the wooden sign and sighed.

I pushed open the gate with a creak and walked up the overgrown walkway to the house, each step bringing in a quicker breath.

The front door was locked, probably to keep people out of the house. I clicked my fingers and the door unlocked. The door creaked open. With a soft sigh, I stepped inside.

As I walked across the threshold, patches of dust rose at my feet. My heartbeat roared in my ears. I looked down at the floor, the threshold of the house. This was where my father was killed. I shivered.

I shook my head, blocking out the tears as I walked around the house.

Old pictures covered in dust stared at me. Pictures of my parents during happier times. Times at school, their wedding, and their families. The Marauders dominated many of the pictures, waving and smiling.

The thing that made my heart ache was the amount of pictures of me. They were everywhere I looked. The Dursley's never put pictures of me up in the house.

As I walked into the sitting room, a large family portrait dominated the space over the fireplace. I reached out with shaking fingers to touch the dusty faces of my mother, father, and my younger self smiling and waving, clutching my toy with no idea of the danger we all were about to face and the life I was to live.

I slumped onto the dusty couch and I put my head into my hands. Something bumped softly into me. I looked up to see a dusty wand lying next to my leg. I picked it up and ran my fingers over it. It was my father's wand. I had to grit my teeth to keep the tears in.

Dad never had a chance against Voldemort without his wand.

I pocketed my father's wand before I explored the house, room by room. I knew I would have to clean the house and buy some clothes and food.

With the bottom of the house explored, I felt a sense of dread as I contemplated entering the top half of the house. I hesitated before I climbed the stairs. I was afraid because the house was unstable upstairs and because upstairs was where it all began for me. I gathered my courage with each step until I reached the landing.

Beams and pieces of wood and other things were scattered all around me, yet there was a clear passageway to the side of the house that had once been my room. My breath came in sharp gasps as I manoeuvred around the wooden beams and sharp edges. Finally, I reached the blasted door, which had been knocked off its hinges.

The room was painted blue. Toys and other items lay scattered around the floor. The back wall had been blasted apart by the rebounded curse; pieces of my crib were in piles on the carpet.

Tears came to my eyes. This was where it all began. Where my parents died, where I became a Horcrux, the Boy Who Lived, and the Chosen One. I did not know for how long I was crying. The grief and sorrow took hold of me. Years of sorrow, and years of emotions I did not show to the world. So many people had died.

After a while, I dried my eyes. There was no point thinking about that other future. I was going to try and prevent it.

I explored the upper part of the house, and it didn't take long before I found the room furthest down the hall from my room. It was my parents' room.

I pulled the door open. It was a soft cream colour with pictures plastered along the walls. A bookcase filled to the top with books was close to the door. I ran my fingers over the books. Many of them were on defensive and offensive spells. Hopefully, they would help me with my fighting and duelling.

As I walked around the bed, I saw something on the bedside table. It was my mother's wand, looking dusty from disuse. I picked it up and ran my fingers over it. She had left it here, thinking she was safe to trust a friend.

I began rummaging through the drawers, not sure what I was looking for, but just wanting to find out as much as I could about my parent's lives. Under a dusty book and some spare parchment were two boxes. Inside one of the boxes were three bags. The first bag was filled with Wizard money, the second bag was filled with Muggle money, and the third bag was filled with letters between Snape and Mom.

I explored the house, taking in everything. By the time I had finished, the sun started to rise. Exhausted, I knew that before I fell asleep I had to clean the house.

I started waving Mom's wand around.

Dust disappeared and items flew around the room as they sorted themselves out. Much of the damage was fixed before my eyes yet the top part of the house was still untouched. By three in the morning, I was done. With the house cleaned, I locked the windows and doors. Gathering some blankets and pillows I found in the closet upstairs, I fell into a deep sleep on the couch. I could not bear to sleep in my parents' room.

For the first time in five years, I slept peacefully.

The next day, I went shopping and bought Clothes, food, and other things.

Two days later, I was able to secure a job at the leaky cauldron as Tom's assistant.

A week after I had run away, I aparated to Hogsmeade and went over to the post office. I had a letter to write to Dumbledore.

I read the letter twice before I sent it.

Dear Professor Dumbledore.

Harry Potter has run away from his aunt and uncle's house.

I thought that he might be growing up being spoilt. I was very surprised when I saw Harry Potter somewhere near London wearing old ripped clothes. He is very thin and looks like he has not eaten anything for days.

I tried to bring him along to my house so that he can at least rest. He was reluctant at first but after some persuasion, he is currently living with me.

I am not good at looking after children because I am a teenager myself. I know an abused child when I see one because I have also had a childhood filled with neglect and abuse. My situation was much worse than Harry so I understand why he ran away.

I started investigating.

Surely there were other people who could have taken him in instead of magic hating Muggles?

The information that I have found is very disturbing.

I will start from the beginning.

James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew all became Animagi after discovering that their friend Remus Lupin was a Werewolf. Because a werewolf is only a danger to humans, they decided that they could keep him company during his transformations by turning into animals.

James Potter was a stag, Sirius Black was a dog, and Peter Pettigrew was a rat. They were not registered by the ministry of magic.

Nearly four years ago an innocent man was put into Azkaban without a trial.

Sirius Black is innocent. He did not betray the Potters or kill the twelve Muggles. He was framed by Peter Pettigrew. After Sirius cornered Peter on a street on November 1st, 1981, Peter shouted out for everyone to hear that Sirius betrayed the Potters, cut off his finger, fired a blasting curse in the street, turned into a rat, and escaped down the sewers.

Currently, he is hiding as Percy Weasley's pet rat.

Stop worrying about Harry Potter. He is safe with me. I will not let you see him because I know that you left him with his relatives knowing that he will be treated badly. One month After Sirius Black is released, I will give Harry Potter back to you. I will give you a time and a location where you can come and collect Harry. I will keep an eye on the Dursleys. If Harry is placed there again, I will personally come and take Harry away myself.

Yours sincerely: Fred Smith.

On February 10th, I went to the ministry of magic.

Two days ago, I had received a letter from Dumbledore, thanking me for telling him about Peter Pettigrew and for taking Harry in. So it was February 10, the day of Sirius's trial. I knew that I would have to keep my emotions under control when I saw him, and Remus if he was there. It would be hard seeing all those familiar people who I had watched die.

Before I went to courtroom ten, I went to the department of mysteries and destroyed the copy of the prophecy, just in case if my plans failed. It would be a disaster if Voldemort knew the contents of the prophecy.

It turns out that the trial was just about to begin when I entered the room.

There was a seat next to Remus, so I sat there, waiting for the trial to begin.

A moment later, the door at the far side of the chamber opened and two dementors flanking Sirius entered. They deposited him in the chained chair, and the chains glowed gold and wrapped around his arms, binding him to it.

Sirius looked terrible. Waxy skin stretched over his face, his eyes had haunted look in them, his body was so thin and week, it felt like he was about to fall over at any moment. He was shivering and gasping. His deep breaths echoed around the chamber, and I felt more anger at Pettigrew, Voldemort, and Crouch; it was because of them that Sirius was like this.

Well, at least one thing is going right this time around, I thought to myself because in the last timeline, Sirius had not gotten a trial.

"Sirius Black," said Crouch who was next to Dumbledore. "You have been brought here today to determine if you are guilty or not, because some people," he shot a glare at Dumbledore who smiled at him. "Seem to have doubts about you."

Crouch gave Sirius a look of pure hatred and began to speak.

"This man, Sirius Black, was sentenced for life in Azkaban for being a death-eater, leaking the hidden location of the Potter's to his master which resulted in their deaths, , and the attempted murder of their son, Harry James Potter, who is known as the boy-who-lived, and killing thirteen people who were twelve muggles and a wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty" was Sirius's response. He was looking right at Remus who was staring back at Sirius with an apologetic look. "How are we, the court and the jury, supposed to believe that you, Sirius Black, are not guilty of such charges when the evidence is so overwhelmingly against you?" Crouch demanded.

A wizard who looked familiar came and stood next to Crouch. I thought of where I may have seen him before, but his name did not come to mind.

But when he spoke, I instantly recognised him because of his deep voice.

"Mr. Crouch, we asked you here as a courtesy to oversee the trial that you denied this man. Remember. You are not in charge. Crouch whirled around and glared menacingly at Kingsley. He seemed to be seething, but his face kept its stern, disgusted look as he turned around and glared at Sirius.

"I repeat. How are we, the court and jury, supposed to believe that you, Sirius Black, are not guilty of such charges when the evidence is so overwhelmingly against you?"

"I was the first choice to be the secret keeper for the Potters, this is true. They were in hiding because it was rumoured that the Death Eaters were searching for the Potters; but we believed that there was a spy amongst us and James and I…" Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke. "We decided to change Secret Keepers at the last moment to keep them safe. We agreed that I was the obvious choice and that Voldemort would come after me.

James was my brother in all but blood. I would have rather been tortured or died for him, Lily, and Harry. But we chose Peter. It was my idea. I asked James and Lily to switch to Peter. I thought it was the perfect plan, a bluff. Voldemort would be sure to come after me, he would never dream that we'd use a weak, talentless thing like him. It must have been the finest moment of his miserable life, telling Voldemort he could hand him the Potters on a silver platter.

James and Lily agreed, and Lily cast the charm immediately. But a week later, Pettigrew betrayed them. I had arranged to check on him, but when I didn't find him, I was scared. I went to James and Lily's house to tell them, but I found it in ruins." He teared up again, and after composing himself, continued with his story. I was shocked, so I went in the house and found both James and Lily dead. I had assumed that Harry had also died along with them. I was about to leave when I heard him crying. Thinking that the cries I could here were a figment of my imagination, I started to walk away. But when the cries got louder, I turned around and saw him. Harry was twisting and turning in his crib and I immediately rushed towards him. I was about to leave the house, but then Rubius Hagrid turned up and said that he needed to take Harry to Dumbledore. Him and I argued for a bit, before I handed Harry over to him. Then the anger returned. I knew that there was only one person to blame for all this. I wondered around searching for Pettigrew. I at last cornered him on a muggle street. I confronted him about it and asked him why he had done what he did. But what I didn't expect was little Peter to get the best of me. He shouted out in the street. 'Sirius, how could you betray Lily and James? Didn't their friendship mean anything to you?' before he shot a blasting curse in the street, transformed into a rat, and escaped into the sewers. I then completely lost it. I had lost my two friends, and now, I was unable to kill the person who was responsible. I kept yelling 'it's my fault!' and laughing. Because I still think that I am to blame. If I had only known that the rat would do what he did, I would have never dared to even suggest the idea of making him secret keeper.

The last thing I saw was the half destroyed street and about a dozen bodies before I was stunned and woke up in Azkaban. I thought I deserved Azkaban. I was happy that I had managed to kill the rat."

"Are you saying that you were not the secret keeper for the Potter's?" Crouch asked.

"No, sir. It was Peter. Peter Pettigrew. He was the secret keeper."

"Are you also saying that Peter Pettigrew is an animagus?"

"Yes."

Crouch seemed to be getting even more angrier.

"Do you know if Peter Pettigrew is alive?"

"I don't think so."

"A likely story," sneered Crouch. If you can not tell us where the rest of Peter Pettigrew's body is, then I cannot in good conscience, allow a convicted mass murderer such as yourself freedom without evidential proof."

"Enough of this, Bartemius," said Dumbledore. I, have proof of which will determine once and for all if Sirius Black is guilty or not.

Dumbledore produced Pettigrew in his rat form and did the animagus reversing spell. The rat began to grow, and in a few seconds, Peter Pettigrew lay on the floor. Dumbledore had his wand trained on him, and he cautiously approached the fallen wizard.

Dumbledore levitated Pettigrew into another chained chair which instantly glowed gold and bound Pettigrew.

With a flick of Crouch's wand, Pettigrew was awake.

"Peter Pettigrew!" Crouch bellowed.

"This man, Peter Pettigrew, was supposedly killed by Sirius Black on the first of November, 1981. If Sirius Black's story is true, then this man is responsible for leaking the hidden location of the Potter's to lord Voldemort, which resulted in their deaths, resulting in the attempted murder of their son, Harry James Potter, otherwise known as the boy-who-lived, and for breaking the statute of secrecy, and for murdering twelve muggles.

How do you plead?"

"N-n-not guilty, Pettigrew said, shaking with fright.

"How are we, the court and the jury, supposed to believe that you, Peter Pettigrew, are not guilty when some of your actions are questionable?

"I…I… that is… we… er, James, Sirius, and our other friend, Remus were a part of Dumbledore's secret organisation called The Order Of The Phoenix, which was made to defeat you-know-who. It was rumoured that the dark, I mean, you-know-who was searching for the Potters. Because of that, they had to go into hiding. We knew that there was a traitor in our midst. Those were very dangerous times. It was decided that Sirius Black would be the secret keeper for the Potters because him and James were very close. Sirius, James, and Lily did ask me to be the secret keeper, but I refused.

When I heard that you-know-who had attacked the Potters, I knew that the dark wizard, Sirius Black had betrayed them. I decided to hunt him down. He cornered me on a muggle street and started accusing me of passing information to the dark, I mean, you-know-who for a year and betraying the Potters. I, however, knew that he was setting me up. So I yelled at him, asking him how he could betray his friends to the, I mean, to you-know-who? That is when he threw a blasting curse in the street, killing those poor muggles. I knew then that I needed to hide, so I cut off my finger, transformed into a rat, and escaped down the sewers. I have been living with the Weasley's for these past few years.

"If your story is true, then would you mind answering a few of my questions, Mr. Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked. Peter's eyes widened, and for a second, he looked terrified.

"Y-yes… O-of course, Albus.

"If you were truly not a death-eater, can you tell me why I found two wands on you when I bought you here?

"I…I… well, I had to have a spare wand on me, didn't I?"

He laughed nervously, but the atmosphere in the room changed.

Dumbledore's face twisted with fury and he said, "Then why, Peter, do you have this wand? If I am not mistaken, then this is the wand which belongs to lord Voldemort.

Immediately, there was an uproar. People were shouting, and Dumbledore had to use the sonorous charm to get the people to be quiet.

Peter began sweating profusely and struggling against the chains which bound him to the chair.

Crouch snatched the wand from Dumbledore's hand, raised his own wand and placed it tip to tip with Voldemort's.

"Prior Incantato!" Roared Crouch

The ghost of the last spells which Voldemort's wand had performed came from the point where the two wands met. I knew what was going to happen, so I closed my eyes. Remus's loud gasp gave me a good idea of what may have been going on.

After a few minutes, Crouch shouted, "Deletrius!" And I opened my eyes.

"Where did you get this wand!" Crouch bellowed, his face inches away from Pettigrew's.

"I…I… um… the dark lord.."

Peter then became silent.

"I see," Crouch said. Crouch seemed to be thinking about something for a few seconds before he said, "Auror's administer Veritasiram to these two men.

Instantly, Kingsley and Mad-eye Moody approached the two prisoners.

"Black first," Crouch said, and Kingsley put three drops of the truth potion in Sirius's mouth.

"Can you hear me?" Asked Crouch.

"Yes," Sirius said. The potion had taken affect.

"What is your name?"

"Sirius Black."

"Were you, or were you not the Potter's secret keeper?"

"I wasn't."

"Who was?"

"Peter Pettigrew.

"Have you, or have you not been a death-eater in any point of your life?"

"No, I haven't."

"Did you, or did you not murder Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles in a muggle street on November 1st, 1981?"

"I didn't.

Sirius was then given the antidote and now it was Pettigrew's turn.

Peter was struggling, and not opening his mouth.

Moody forced his mouth open while Kingsley put three drops of the truth potion into his mouth. Pettigrew was now struggling harder than ever and managed to bite Moody's hand. Moody roared in pain and backhanded Pettigrew so hard that everyone heard the crack as a few of his teeth were broken.

Pettigrew stopped struggling as the potion took affect and his eyes glazed over.

"Can you hear me?" Crouch asked.

"Yes," Pettigrew said.

"What is your name?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Have you, or have you not been a death-eater in any point of your life?"

"Yes."

"Are you, or are you not, a death-eater?"

"Yes."

"Did you, or did you not, betray the Potter's to lord Voldemort and framed Sirius Black by killing the muggles?"

"Yes to both things."

"Did the Weasleys know that you were hiding in their house?"

"No."

After the antidote was given to Pettigrew, crouch took a deep breath and spoke.

"Those in favour of clearing Peter Pettigrew of all charges, raised your wands."

No one raised their wands.

Those of you in favour of conviction, raise your wands.

More than half of the people raised their wands.

Those of you in favour for clearing Sirius Black of all charges, raise your wands.

Everyone except a few death-eaters and Dolores Umbridge waved their wands.

Dumbledore sighed and then spoke.

"Very well. Peter Pettigrew. For passing on information about The Order Of The Phoenix, betraying James and Lily to lord Voldemort, for being a death-eater, and killing twelve muggles, you will be placed in Sirius Black's old cell in Azkaban prison for life."

"No! No! Please! The dark lord was taking over. I had no choice! Not Azkaban! Please! No! No!"

When the dementors came to take him away, Pettigrew started sobbing loudly. Big, fat tears leaked out of his eyes as he was taken away.

"Sirius Black." Dumbledore said. "I, on behalf of the ministry would like to apologise to you for the mistake which was made four years ago. You are cleared of all charges and will receive compensation of one million gallions for every year you have spent in Azkaban prison. I believe that most of the money should come from Mr. Crouch's personal vault as he was the one who sent you to Azkaban without a trial."

Crouch pointed his wand at Dumbledore's heart, but after a second, he dropped it and said, "Very well," through gritted teeth. Just by his murderous expression, I knew that he was not happy with the outcome of the trial.

About six years later.

July 31st, 1991.

It had been about six years since Sirius had been released. I had continued living at the cottage at Godric's Hollow while Sirius was taken to St. Mungo's to be healed.

When I heard that he had been released, I revealed myself to him and Remus.

This Sirius was much different from the Sirius I knew in my past life.

He looked more healthier and happier because he was not trapped in Grimmauld place and had not been subjected to the horrors of the dementors in Azkaban for twelve years this time around.

After Sirius had been released from St. Mungo's, he had claimed the title of lord Black. He had welcomed Andromeda back to the Black family. He also added Ted and Nymphadora Tonks into the Black family. Sirius had also dissolved the marriage between Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, and disowned Bellatrix from the Black family.

He had then hired a team of curse-breakers to go through the Lestrange vault and number twelve, Grimmauld place. All dark objects which were in both places were destroyed including Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket. Kreacher had been overjoyed when the curse-breakers had destroyed the locket. The whole story about Regulus had then come out, and Sirius was heart-broken after hearing it. Of course, the curse-breakers did not reveal what kind of objects the locket and the cup were to Sirius and Remus. This had made my job much easier than it had been before.

We had been living in Grimmauld place for a few months until Sirius had found a house.

I had packed a bag full of things from the cottage just in case. My mother and father's wands did not work well for me because I was not the owner of those wands, but they would have to do until I got my own.

Sirius and Remus spoilt me, but thankfully not as much as Dudley. I really missed my friends, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna, but I knew that I would be seeing them at Hogwarts.

Remus and Sirius had bought me extra birthday and Christmas presents every year, every Halloween we visited my parent's graves, and Sirius got reinstated as an Auror'.

I also learnt lots of new pranks from Sirius and Remus, and we played lots of Quidditch.

Now it was my 11th birthday and I was shopping for my school supplies in **Diagon Alley with Remus.**

I kept having flashbacks when I saw Gringots. The goblin bowed as we walked inside. Now we were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them.

Enter, stranger, but take heed.

Of what awaits the sin of greed.

For those who take, but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors, A treasure that was never yours, thief, you have been warned, beware, of finding more than treasure there.

A pair of goblins bowed us through the silver doors and we were in the vast marble hall.

"Good Morning," said Remus to a free goblin. "We have come to take some money out of Harry Potter's vault."

"Do you have his key, sir?"

I took out the key from my pocket and handed over.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

I scowled at Griphook as he came to take us to my vault. We could have been killed when he betrayed us. Hermione, Ron, and I were very lucky to have escaped alive.

We followed him toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

After getting some money we arrived back outside Gringots.

Next, we went to Madam Malkin's.

"Hogwarts, dear?" said Madam Malkin. "Got the lot here, another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, Malfoy was standing on a footstool, while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood me on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over my head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said Malfoy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," I said.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said Malfoy. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"Yes. I got a Nimbus 2000. It is one of my birthday presents," I said.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"Yes. I am a seeker.

"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"Not yet. I suppose I will find out once I get there. I am hoping to be in Gryffindor. That is where my parents and uncles were," I said.

"I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been, imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"No."

There was silence for a few moments, then Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and we left the shop.

After buying parchment, quills, ink, school books, cauldron, scales, potion ingredients, a collapsible brass telescope, and Headwig, we went to Ollivanders to get a wand.

"Good Afternoon," said Mr. Ollivander.

He was standing before us, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," I said.

"Ah yes," said Ollivander. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that killed your parents," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands. Well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do." He shook his head and then, to my relief, spotted Remus.

"Remus Lupin! How nice to see you again! Ten and a quarter inches, made of cypress, and contained a unicorn hair core. wasn't it?"

"Yes it was, sir."

Now, Mr. Potter. Let me see. He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket.

"Which is your wand arm?"

I held out my right arm.

He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round my head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand. "

Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

I took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of my hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try,"

I tried, but I had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no, here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out. "

The pile of tried wands was getting higher and higher on the spindly chair.

It was very tempting to ask for my holly wand, but I stayed silent, still trying out more wands until at last, Mr. Ollivander said, "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere, I wonder, now. Yes, why not? Unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. "

I took the wand. I felt a sudden warmth in my fingers. I raised the wand above my head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Remus whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well, how curious. How very curious."

He put my wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious, curious.

This time, I did not ask what was curious.

After paying 7 Galleons for my wand, we exited the shop.

September 1st, 1991.

I calmly walked through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, ignoring all the stares I was getting. Beside me stood Sirius and Remus.

After hugging them good-bye and promising to write, I made my way to the empty compartment near the end of the train.

At 11 o'clock, the train started moving.

After some time the door of the compartment slid open and Ron came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite me. "Everywhere else is full."

I shook my head and Ron sat down.

"Hey, Ron," said Fred.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train, Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there," said George.

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Are they your brothers?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Ron.

"Who are you?" asked Fred.

"I'm Harry Potter, said harry.

Ron, Fred, and George gasped.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

I rolled my eyes. Of course I am Harry Potter."

Ron stared at me for a few moments, and as though he suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window.

The twins got up to go.

"See you later." Said both of the twins together.

"Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are all your family wizards?" I asked.

"Er. Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"Have you got any brothers or sisters?" I asked.

"Five," said Ron, looking gloomy.

"I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left. Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, and Charlie's old wand.

After purchasing everything from the trolley witch, I looked at Dumbledore's card.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS.

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark lord Gellert Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

After some time, there was a knock on the door of our compartment and Neville came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When we shook our heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," I said.

"Yes," said Neville miserably. "Well, if you see him."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could."

After some time, the compartment door slid open again. Neville was back, but this time, he had Hermione with him.

She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said in her sort of bossy voice.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it, but I can try and summon it", ," I said.

"I have practised the summoning charm. I can summon your toad for you. Come and sit with us."

Hermione and Neville left the compartment to get their trunks.

After Neville and Hermione sat down, I raised my wand and said, "Accio Trevor."

After a few seconds, Neville's toad zoomed into my hand.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.

I gave Trevor to Neville and closed the compartment door.

"Well, I think we should all introduce ourselves," I said.

"I'm Ron Weasley," said Ron.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," said Neville.

"I'm Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"I'm Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course, I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

I held up my hand to stop her.

"I wouldn't believe everything in those books, there is no way of knowing if what some books say is the truth, There is also the fact that there were only four people present that night, two are dead, one is missing, and I have never been questioned about it, so where did they get their information from?"

Everyone in The compartment sat in shocked silence.

Ron broke the silence.

"You said about that night, only being four people there, you said only two were."

I gave him a sad smile, "Yeah, my parents."

Neville interjected, "But what about you-know-who, he died as well… didn't he?"

I looked them all in the eye, "For starters Neville, his name is Voldemort." I gave a small glare at them when they yelped at the name, though I was happy to notice Ron's shudder was quite a bit smaller than Neville's, even Hermione gave a small shudder. "Or if you prefer you can call him by his real name, 'Tom Riddle."

I got some very curious looks. "Oh come on, you didn't really think he was a proper Lord did you?" I got blank looks of incredulity back at me, causing me to roll my eyes. "Fine, I'll show you." I raised my wand, and showed them the anagram that made up Voldemort's name.

Hermione commented on it first, "It doesn't mention that in any of the books about his rise to power."

Neville nodded "Yeah and Riddle isn't a magical name that I'm familiar with. Wait does that mean that…"

I smiled at him and nodded. "Yep, the greatest dark lord in history, one who believes that the mixing of magical and muggle blood is a crime that is punishable by death, is the son of a muggle."

"I wonder if all those death eaters knew they were serving a half-blood all this time.

For the next couple of hours after the heavy discussions finished, we talked about nothing of real consequence, just the classes and quidditch. I was surprised that Hermione seemed more interested in quidditch this time around, and Neville managed to convey his impressive skills and knowledge in herbology.

Suddenly, the compartment door slid open and Malfoy, along with Crab and goyal came in.

"Is it true?" said Malfoy. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes." I answered.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said Malfoy carelessly, noticing where I was looking. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford. "

He looked at Hermione and asked, "who are you?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. "You are being rude, you know.

"Are you related to the Dagworth-granger's?" He asked.

"No," said Hermione. "My parents are muggles."

Draco's eyes which were studying Hermione with curiosity had gone cold and he glared at Hermione.

"And you are," "Neville Longbottom," Neville said quietly.

He turned back to me. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. "

He held out his hand to shake mine, but I didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," I said coolly.

A pink tinge appeared in Malfoy's pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and filthy little mudbloods like her, it'll rub off on you. "

Both Ron and I stood up.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

I suddenly pulled Malfoy close, and whispered, "I will be watching you, and I will be waiting. If you try to harm my friends in any way, what I did to the Dark Lord will be nothing compared to what I do to you.

Try thinking for yourself for once, instead of blindly following your father. Now, sometime soon, you are going to have to make a decision about your own future. Before you make that decision, you should do a little research on a half-blood who went to this school fifty years ago named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Take a roll of parchment and write out that name. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Now, write out I am Lord Voldemort. You will find it extremely curious that they are an anagram of each other."

I then released Malfoy, and sat down. Draco looked even paler than normal, and surprised. With as much dignity as he could muster, he swept his eyes over all four of us and left, Crabbe and Goyle following.

After a while, all of us got changed into our school robes.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately. "

I let Headwig out of her cage, and in 5 minutes, the train reached Hogwarts.

I smiled after seeing Hogwarts whole. My mind kept going back to the battle of Hogwarts but I tried to put that out of my mind.

There was no battle, Hogwarts was not in ruins, and we were all safe.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Ron and I were followed into our boat by Neville and Hermione.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then. Forward!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

After getting out of the boat, we walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? "

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. Professor McGonagall stood there in emerald Green robes.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide.

Professor McGonagall showed us into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We crowded in, standing rather closer together than we would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. "

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose.

In the great hall, Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of the stool she put the sorting hat.

Everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find, a smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall, for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, and I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head, The Sorting Hat can't see, so try me on and I will tell you, where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve, and chivalry, Set Gryffindor's apart.

You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal, those patient Hufflepuffs are true, And unafraid of toil.

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind, here those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind.

Or perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends, those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands, though I have none, for I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to me. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Hannah stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down.

I saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw table clapped this time; and several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

Mandy Brocklehurst went to Ravenclaw too, but Lavender Brown became the first new Gryffindor, and The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers. I could see Fred and George catcalling.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!"

When Neville was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with him. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran towards the GRYFFINDOR table and took a seat next to Hermione.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

The sorting went on and then, finally, "Potter, Harry!"

As I stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?" "The Harry Potter?"

The last thing I saw before the hat dropped over my eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at me. Next second I was looking at the black inside of the hat.

I waited. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a small voice asked in my ear.

"Time travel and master of death. How interesting."

"Your plan is an audacious one; you seek to meddle with the workings of time and fate."

"We had lost a lot of people," I thought bitterly.

"True. I wish you well in this endeavour. Never fear, I will keep your secrets. The more who know the greater the risk. Don't change too much though, otherwise your future knowledge will be useless."

"Thank you. Er, would it be possible to ask for one small favour?"

"What favour is that?"

"I know you'll put Ron and his sister Ginny into Gryffindor as well. But there is a new student next year named Luna Lovegood. She'll be sorted into Ravenclaw, but she'll have a pretty bad time of it. She'll become a good friend, but I think the harassment from her own house was not a good thing for her. Could you possibly put her in Gryffindor where I can keep an eye on her?"

"I will allow this, unless she is completely opposed to your house, which I doubt will be the case. Are you prepared to deal with the consequences of your meddling?"

"It's what I came here to do."

"Very well. Though I must congratulate you on a plan worthy of the most cunning Slytherin; I had best send you with your future friends into GRYFFINDOR!"

I walked confidently to the Gryffindor table. Percy got up and shook my hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

After the sorting, Dumbledore got to his feet and beamed at us with his arms opened wide.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

The dishes in front of me were now piled with food.

The feast went the same way as it did last time, then Dessert appeared.

As I helped myself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to our families. "I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." We laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me. He pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned, but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces. When I got in here. They thought I might not be magical enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

"Your Great Uncle Algie should have not done that," I said. "You were very lucky that you had magic, otherwise you would have gotten badly hurt or even possibly killed. You need to learn to stand up for yourself. The only thing you need is self-confidence. Don't let other people's words or actions affect you. Always believe in yourself. You have been put into Gryffindor for a reason. The reason you have been put into Gryffindor is because you are brave. You have got 3 friends. Hermione, Ron, and myself. We will help you. Then you can show your family how powerful you really are.

You need to stand up to those who hurt you or throw insults at you. You need to show them what you are capable of.

Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. You need to play to your strengths and prove all those people wrong."

Neville nodded. He had a thoughtful expression on his face.

On my other side, Percy and Hermione were talking about lessons. "I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult, " "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing.".

I was starting to feel warm and sleepy.

I looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore and Quirrell was talking to Snape. I kept having flashbacks about him dying in the shrieking shack.

I respected Snape now, but this time, I was not going to let him be nasty to the other houses especially Gryffindor and myself.

Suddenly, Snape looked past Quirrell's turban straight into my eyes and I quickly looked the other way.

After a while, the desserts disappeared, and Dumbledore got to his feet. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that, as well. "

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch, "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

I instantly started thinking about how I was going to deal with Quirrell this time around.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

He gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.

Teach us something please.

Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees.

Our heads could do with filling, With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff.

So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only Fred and George were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. My legs were like lead again, but only because I was so tired and full of food.


	3. 2: Halloween

Chapter Two: Halloween.

Review answers.

jadely31: I won't have stuff about relationships straight away. I will maybe put stuff about relationships in second or third year. I haven't really decided.

ObsessedWithHPFanFic: I did decide to get Peter in prison because I just don't feel right about having Sirius to rot away in Azkaban for crimes that he didn't commit, and I'm glad that you like the conversation about Albus.

Nsaifnabi: I have got a beta. I won't kill off Luna. The only people who will die will be Voldemort, his death-eaters, Umbridge, and maybe other people like Cornelius Fudge if I feel like killing them off.

Chapter Two: Halloween.

The next day I wrote a letter to Sirius and Remus.

Dear Moony and Padfoot.

Yesterday I made 3 friends on the Hogwarts Express. My friends are Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger.

I got sorted into Gryffindor.

Just in case if you are wondering about where my broom is, I shrunk it and brought it with me. I just had a feeling that I might need it.

Yours sincerely: Harry Potter.

The rest of the classes were the same as last time, except in Transfiguration, I had also transfigured my matchstick into a perfect needle like Hermione.

The only differences were that Neville, Ron, and Hermione had become my best friends. Hermione and Ron always bickered about homework, but they all got along. Hopefully, the troll incident could be avoided at Halloween.

I had also told Neville that 'the wand chooses the wizard,' and hoped that he got the hint and bought himself a new wand.

Potions class went very differently though.

"Ah, Yes," Snape said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity. "

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered behind their hands.

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking, as there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

After a few seconds of silence, the questions began.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, sir."

"Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir."

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite, sir."

"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" said Snape.

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.

I told Neville to add the porcupine quills after taking the cauldron off the fire to avoid the potion from exploding.

At five to three, myself, Neville, Ron, and Hermione left the castle and made our way across the grounds to Hagrid's hut.

I knocked and herd Fang bark.

I smiled. It was nice to be in Hagrid's hut again.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears.

After we introduced ourselves, we started telling Hagrid about our lessons.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot, great with animals."

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Neville picked up the article about the break-in at Gringots.

I asked Hagrid about my parents. For quite some time, Hagrid shared stories about Ron, Neville, and my parents while they were at Hogwarts.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" barked Madam Hooch. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.

Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!

"Up!" Everyone shouted.

After showing us how to mount our brooms without sliding off the end, she said, "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle. Three… two…"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle. Twelve feet. Twenty feet. I saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom. I was not going to let him break his wrist again.

I mounted the broom and in a few seconds, caught up to Neville, and with a bit of difficulty, got him on my broom.

After we came back down, Madam Hooch took Neville to the Hospital wing to get a calming draft.

His Remembrall fell out of his pocket.

Madam Hooch turned to face us and said, " Ten points to Gryffindor for saving a fellow student, Potter. None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch. Come on, dear. "

She put an arm around Neville and took him to the Hospital wing.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching the Remembrall out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," I said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about… up a tree?"

"Give it here!" I yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.

I grabbed my broom and went after Malfoy.

I turned my broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air.

"Give it here, or I will knock you off your broom!" I said.

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck," I said.

"Catch it if you can, then!" shouted Malfoy, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

I dived and caught the Remembrall just before it would have shattered into pieces on the ground.

"Harry Potter!" Professor McGonagalll shouted as she came running towards us.

"Never in all my time at Hogwarts have I seen something like." She was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously. "How dare you Pull a stunt like this! You might have broken your neck."

"It wasn't his fault, Professor."

"Be quiet, Miss Patil." "But Malfoy." "That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

I caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as I left

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to me. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with me walking behind her.

She stopped outside the charms classroom, opened the door and poked her head inside. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

I smiled. The plan was going right how I wanted it to go.

Soon I was going to be on the Quidditch team again.

Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall after Oliver Wood came out.

We followed her up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at me.

"In here." Professor McGonagall pointed us into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing.

She slammed the door behind him and turned to face us.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive. He Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking at me as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked me excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"Oh yes, I am a seeker in the Quidditch games that I play at home with my uncles and I have a Nimbus Two Thousand as well."

"Great!" said Wood with a grin on his face. "If what professor McGonagalll says is true, then we are sure to win the Quiddatch cup this year."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule", said Professor McGonagall. "Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks.

She peered sternly over her glasses at me. "I want to hear that you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

"You're joking," said Ron at dinner after I finished telling him, Neville, and Hermione what had happened when I had left the grounds with Professor McGonagalll.

I only had to wait for a little while before Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyal turned up.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to your blood-traitor of a god father?

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," I said coolly.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact.

My eyes flashed in anger and I said, "Very well Malfoy. If it is a wizard's duel you want, then a wizard's duel you will get. If I find out that you have sent an anonymous tip to Filch or any of the staff about me being out of bed at night then well, let's just say that things will become much worse for you."

"How dare you!" shouted Malfoy, "When my father hears about this."

"Your father will do what, Crucio me? Nope, I'm not afraid of that, send an Avada kedavra my way? Nope, not afraid of that either. Tell me, Malfoy. What can your death-eater of father do to me? Nothing. Even if he does, he will be sent straight to Azkaban before he can say Voldemort. Your father is pathetic, just like his ugly master. Are you sure that you want to continue with this? If you don't show up then I might just accidently send an owl to Rita Skeeter.

saying that your father is a death-eater? I'm sure that she will be very interested to see the mark on your father's arm. Once the public knows about it, then think what will happen. The Malfoy name that is respected by many people will be dragged through the mud. I am warning you again. Don't mess with my friends otherwise you will have me to answer to."

"You'll pay for that," he said quietly before looking me straight in the eye and stomping off, Crabbe and Goyle following him.

"Cowered! I shouted after him.

The only thing I noticed before turning back to the Gryffindor table was Malfoy's face red with anger and humiliation as he made his way to the Slytherin table.

"That was not very nice what you said about Malfoy and his father," said Hermione.

I turned towards Hermione and started to explain.

"Hermione, tell me. When Voldemort was in power, who did he and his death-eaters attack?"

After a few seconds she said, "Muggles, Muggleborns, and wizards who did not support his agenda."

"That was the reason I was saying all that Hermione because that is what Lucius Malfoy is, a death-eater. Think about it. Voldemort and his death-eaters hate Muggles and Muggleborns and think that they are better than them. They also hate people like Neville, Ron, and especially me because we don't agree with his ideals. If there were death-eater attacks, then they won't hesitate to kill you or your family.

After Voldemort fell, most of the death-eaters claimed that they were under the Imperius Curse like Lucius Malfoy and were set free.

Some of the worst of the death-eaters like Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Barty Crouch junior did something real bad after Voldemort was defeated." I looked over at Neville and said, "That's not my story to tell but the point is, Hermione that you need to understand that there are still bad people out there. Not all authority figures can be trusted and people like Malfoy senior and junior need to be dealt with properly as well. They think that Muggles and muggleborns are animals that need to be put down. You may believe me or may not believe me but I am telling you. People like them are bad."

I felt really bad for saying all that to Hermione but I really wanted her to understand what the death-eaters were capable of.

October 31st, 1991 charms classroom.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too. Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

This time, Ron was working with Seamus and I was working with Hermione.

We managed to do the spell perfectly.

Professor Flitwick looked over at us and said, "Oh, well done! Everyone see here, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger have done it perfectly. Five points to Gryffindor each."

On our way to the Great Hall, we unfortunately ran into Malfoy, Crab, and Goyle.

Draco pushed past Hermione.

"Out of the way, you filthy little mudblood. Your kind shouldn't even be allowed here."

Shut up Malfoy," yelled Ron while Hermione looked upset."

"Let's go Crab, Goyal. I don't know how you blood traitors could stand a filthy little mudblood like Granger around. You can do better than that ugly thing." He pointed at Hermione. "All that thing is good for is doing your homework.

I was pulling out my wand when I heard a gasp behind me.

I looked back and saw tears running down Hermione's face.

"Remember what I told you Malfoy. You don't mess with me or my friends. Since you can't get this through your thick scull, it's time that we taught you a lesson."

I walked towards him with fists raised and he started backing up against the wall.

"That's right, cry little mudblood, go crying to your filthy Muggle mummy," he said.

My fist connected with Malfoy's nose, breaking it.

"You should have learnt your lesson earlier Malfoy!" I yelled kicking Malfoy in the stomach.

I punched him in the face a couple of times, Ron kicked him between his legs, and Neville slapped Malfoy across the face.

"You filthy blood traitors!" shouted Malfoy. "When my father hears about this."

"Stop making empty threats, Malfoy. All actions have consequences and at the moment, you are paying for your actions. If I had my way then you would be expelled from Hogwarts.

We all know how your father's a death-eater who wormed himself out of punishment. Unfortunately, that is what all the death-eaters are good at. They bite off more than they can chew and then they either bribe their way out of punishment or make up lies to cover stuff up.

I thought that Slytherin house was for the cunning. I didn't know, however, that it was for cowards like you, Malfoy. I am warning you for the last time. Change your attitude. My godfather is the head of house Black and he can disown your mother from the Black family if you carry on with that kind of attitude." Malfoy's face went white.

After Malfoy ran away, Ron knocked on the bathroom door but Hermione wouldn't answer. Faint sobs could be heard coming from the crack under the door.

I was very worried. History was repeating itself and I was scared.

"Come on, Hermione, you'll miss the feast!" Ron called out.

"Hermione, it's okay. You shouldn't ever listen to people like him," Neville said.

"Hermione, it's okay. We don't think that you are ugly and we are your friends. I told you what people like Malfoy are like.

Don't worry, we won't let anything happen to you. We have all got your back."

Hermione still didn't come out.

"I've not got a good feeling about this," I muttered loud enough for Neville and Ron to hear before making my way to the Halloween feast, Ron and Neville following.

The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. A few seconds later, Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and a look of terror on his face.

He made his way to the staff table towards Dumbledore's seat, slumped against the table and gasped, "Troll in the dungeon, thought you ought to know" before fainting.

"Bloody hell," I cursed under my breath before standing up. Neville and Ron both grabbed me. "Harry, where are you going?" asked Neville.

"Hermione," I gasped out, "She doesn't know about the troll. We've got to go rescue her before the troll finds and kills her."

Neville and Ron looked alarmed and followed me towards the girl's bathroom.

We heard a scream as we got close to it.

The troll had grabbed Hermione by her robes and was about to smash its club on her head. I quickly pointed my wand at the troll's chest and started casting stunning spells and the full body-bind curses at it.

After a few spells had hit it, the troll fell to the floor with a loud crash, it's club landing a few feet away from it.

Hermione was dropped to the floor. She was still sobbing and she looked around fearfully.

Just then, professors McGonagall, Quirrell, Snape, and Dumbledore came running to investigate what was going on.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" She looked over at the troll.

Who did this?" Snape asked.

"I did. We had left the feast because Hermione was crying in the toilet," I answered.

"Why were you here in the first place, Miss Granger?" asked McGonagall.

She opened her mouth to answer but I answered first. "It was because of Malfoy, professor. He said some bad things about Hermione as we were coming to the Halloween feast. He is pathetic, just like his father.

"He called her a mudblood and said that her kind were not welcome here," Ron said.

Snape sucked in a sharp breath.

He then attempted to look into my mind to see what happened but I quickly looked down.

"Severus, please take Miss Granger to the hospital wing.

Snape left with his cloak billowing, Hermione behind him.

"As for you," said McGonagall turning around and looking at us, "I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points.

"Another ten points will be given for rescuing a friend," added Dumbledore, You may go now."

We hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until we had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," we said and entered. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up.

Before going to bed, I wrote another letter to Sirius and Remus explaining what had happened.


	4. 3: Quidditch And Christmas

Chapter Three: Quidditch and Christmas.

Nervousness was the first thing I felt as I woke up.

Today Quirrell was going to try and kill me during the Gryffindor VS Slytheren Quidditch match. I hadn't thought about how to deal with him as well as not making him suspicious that I already knew his and Voldemort's plans.

I sat by my friends, nervously, not eating anything.

"Take a bit of toast mate, go on," said Ron.

"Ron's right Harry, you are going to need your strength today," said Hermione.

"Yeah mate, you don't have to eat much but at least eat something," said Neville.

I sighed and started eating some toast.

In a few minutes, Snape came over to our table.

"Good luck today, Potter. Then again now that you have proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy. Even if it is against Slytheren.

He looked at me for a couple of seconds then left.

in the locker room we were changing into our scarlet Quidditch robes. Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said. "And women," said Angelina. "And women," Wood agreed. "This is it." "The big one," said Fred. "The one we've all been waiting for," said George. "We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told me, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." He glared at us all as if to say, "Or else." "Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you." I followed Fred and George out of the locker room and hoped that Quirrell wouldn't succeed in killing me. I walked onto the field to loud cheers. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once we were all gathered around her.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd.

I waved at Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and Neville before mounting my broom.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle and we were off.

Hermione.

I sat in the stands listening to Lee Jordan's commentary of the game.

I didn't know why Harry asked us to keep an eye on professor Quirrell. He was a professor. Surely he wouldn't harm a student?

"The Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor. What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive as well."

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor.

She's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve, back to Johnson and no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes. Flint flying like an eagle up there, he's going to score ,no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle, that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and OUCH, that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger, Quaffle taken by the Slytherins, that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which, nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes, she's really flying, dodges a speeding Bludger, the goal posts are ahead, come on, now, Angelina, Keeper Bletchley dives, misses, GRYFFINDOR SCORE!" Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. "Budge up there, move along." "Hagrid!" We squeezed together to give him enough space to join us.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?" "Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet." "Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry. Way up above us, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch.

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the, wait a moment, was that the Snitch?" A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. Harry and the Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs saw it and both of them dived downward after the streak of gold. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch. All the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch. Harry was faster than Higgs. He put on an extra spurt of speed. I could only watch as Harry rushed towards the ground. I was afraid for him. Why was he diving so fast? What if he slipped off his broom an fell? I promised myself that I would research a spell that could slow him down just in case something like that did happen.

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from us Gryffindors.

Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life. "Foul!" we screamed. Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Dean was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!" "What are you talking about, Dean?" Ron asked.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!" "But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him. Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side. "They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air." Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. "So after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating," "Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall. "I mean, after that open and revolting foul ," "Jordan, I'm warning you." "All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession." It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened.

His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch.

I instantly looked over at Quirrell. Sure enough, he had his wand pointed at Harry and was muttering. Neville and Ron also looked over at Quirrell and got up.

Before we could help, we saw a jet of green light come out of Harry's wand and hit Quirrell. He started vomiting slugs and Harry's broom righted itself in the air.

Quirrell got up, and before he could move, a cut appeared on his forehead.

I looked around and saw Harry's wand pointing towards his direction.

The blood, instead of dripping down Quirrell's face, arranged itself into letters and wrote the words, "I am a loser" On his forehead.

Snape's gaze lingered for a moment on Harry and then he turned to watch the game.

Harry.

It was very amusing to see Quirrell/Voldemort vomit slugs.

He got up. I smirked. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. I fired a cutting curse at his face and instantly, it started bleeding.

I gathered as much blood as I could and in a few moments, the words, "you are a loser" were written with his blood on his forehead.

Everyone roared with laughter and Snape shouted, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for cursing a teacher!"

I didn't care. We were going to get the points back anyway.

After Ten minutes, I caught the snitch.

Twenty minutes later, Lee was still shouting the results. Gryffindor had won Two hundred points by eighty.

I was in Hagrid's hut with Neville, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and Hagrid.

We all had cups of tea in our hands.

"Why did you curse the professor like that, Harry?" asked Remus.

I had expected this question to come but not that soon.

"He hexed my broom and tried to throw me off," I growled angrily.

"What!" shouted Sirius and he got up with a look of fury on his face.

"Sirius stop!" I shouted.

With a wave of my wand his arms and legs snapped together and he lay on the floor in a body bind. His eyes were the only things that were moving and he was not happy.

I walked over to him and took his wand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" I shouted.

After a couple of seconds, I spoke softly. "Remember what happened when you went after Peter that night? You were so angry, and you wanted revenge. You tracked him down in a street when he killed those muggles, cut off his finger, and escaped. You were suspected of being a death-eater after Peter betrayed my parents because you had told everyone that you were going to be the secret keeper. Everyone's suspicions were confirmed after you were caught at the scene of the crime.

Think about it. There are many death-eaters who want you gone. It would be a good excuse for someone like Lucius Malfoy to convince the board of governors and Fudge to get you chucked into Azkaban or given the dementor's kiss for attacking a professor.

I have a suspicion that Quirrell and Voldemort are involved because let's face it, according to some people, Quirrell's behaviour has completely changed. I have heard that before he used to be fine but when he took a year off to get first-hand experience, he met vampires in the black forest and had trouble with a hag. Ever since he came back, he suddenly became afraid of everyone and everything. He's afraid of his subject, even his own shadow. Something just doesn't seem right.

We will wait until the end of this year.

If he is up to something and you go after him, his target would be you. He would stop at nothing to get you out of the way for disrupting his plans. Dumbledore is here. He and the rest of the staff would be there to help if things go out of control.

Promise me Sirius. Please don't go after him. I don't want to lose you again."

I waved my wand and the body bind was lifted off him.

"I promise," he said quietly, "I won't go after him as long as you're not in terrible danger.

Danger. That was exactly what we were all in. I knew that Voldemort was teaching defence. Who knows what he would do next.

Old memories resurfaced.

Sirius and Bellatrix were duelling fiercely.

Sirius ducked as the stunning spell came towards him. He was laughing at her.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled at Bellatrix, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

Bellatrix pointed her wand at Sirius's chest and yelled, "Avada kedavra!"

Sirius was too busy laughing at her and did not notice the green light coming towards him.

"Sirius duck!" I yelled but it was too late.

The laughter had not died from his face but when he saw the jet of green light heading towards him, his eyes widened in shock.

I released Neville, but I was unaware of doing so.

I jumped down the stairs and pulled out my wand as Dumbledore turned in our direction. Before Sirius could move, the jet of green light hit him directly in the chest and he was blasted off his feet.

It seemed to take him an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil in the arch.

I saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on my godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place like it hadn't been disturbed. I heard Bellatrix's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing. Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second, But Sirius did not reappear. In my heart, I knew that he was dead. I had seen the killing curse hit him in the chest. I had seen the life leave his eyes. Understood his words that he mouthed before falling through the veil. "I love you, Harry."

This could not be. It wasn't fair. Why did it have to be this way? I had not even known him for very long. I still refused to believe it.

The person who I had viewed as a father figure and brother had also been ripped away from me because I had foolishly believed the vision to be true

"SIRIUS!" I yelled, "SIRIUS!" I had reached the floor, my breath coming in searing gasps.

As I reached the ground and sprinted toward the dais, Remus grabbed me around the chest, holding me back.

Someone was shouting my name. "Harry! Harry!"

I opened my eyes.

"Harry are you alright?"

Hermione's face was hovering above me, looking down at me in concern.

"Yes, I'm alright," I muttered.

Sirius.

I didn't believe Harry when he told Hermione that he was alright.

After Moonie and I had picked up Harry from his parents graves, , he had not been acting like a child. Sure, he had tried to act like one when Moonie or I were around, but when he didn't think that we were watching him, he would look sad.

His eyes were older, as if he had lived through horrors one could scarcely believe. There was so much pain in those green eyes.

He would often wake up screaming and saying things like, "I'm sorry. I didn't want any of you to die, all my fault that they are dead."

Moonie had also noticed.

We were going to wait for him to tell us.

If he didn't tell us at the end of his first year at Hogwarts, we would then confront him about it.

Harry.

We stayed at Hagrid's hut for a bit before Sirius and Remus left.

The next month just flew by and I was surprised to wake up one day and realize that it was almost Christmas. I really needed to get a move on with those Christmas gifts. I also paid Fred and George ten galleons to enchant snowballs to constantly follow Quirrell around and bounce off the back of his turban where I knew Voldemort was. They didn't want to accept that much money at first, but then I explained that by 'constantly' I meant 'until the snow melts.' They'd even managed to prevent the snow from melting inside and vanishing whenever any other teacher was nearby.

One day, after Potions ended, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and myself came across Hagrid decorating a Christmas tree.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron. "

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind us. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron was about to dive at Malfoy but I stepped in front of him.

"How do you even know if Ron's house is bigger than Hagrid's hut? of course, there is nothing wrong with his hut but I wonder." I paused for a second. "Aha! I get it. You are a stalker. It's been so obvious. Now why didn't I think of that before? Tell me, how many people do you follow around?

Before Malfoy could answer, I turned towards Ron.

"Mate, I think we need to go and warn the rest of the Gryffindor's that Malfoy is a stalker and tell them to make sure every couple of minutes that they are not being followed by the blonde idiot. To be honest, I think that he has a crush on you." Ron looked sick and Malfoy looked horrified and pulled out his wand. Snape was standing behind us observing and Hagrid was trying to hide his laughter behind the Christmas tree.

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something but I started speaking before he could get in a word.

"Let me explain my theory. I think that he has a crush on you because he keeps insulting you. Many couples do that for fun, you know, insult each other. Even brothers and sisters do it. You sometimes say stuff like 'Percy is being a prat,' stuff like that. You insult him but you still love him and mean it in a good way. This is a similar thing that Draco is trying to do.

He comes up to you, insults you, and after you lose your temper, he leaves. He is probably hoping that you get the hint.

His insults is just his way of flirting with you, you know, telling how good you look, all that. Of course, he means the opposite thing.

Malfoy was spluttering and after watching him for a bit, we followed Hagrid to the great hall where professors McGonagall and Flitwick were setting up the Christmas decorations.

Because MR. and MRS. Weasley were visiting Charley in Romania, I invited Ron, Percy, Neville, and the twins to spend Christmas with us.

Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't come because she was spending Christmas with her parents.

Percy, Neville, Ron, and the twins had accepted my invitation.

Remus met us at Kings Cross.

We aparated right outside our house.

On December 24th, We spent the morning putting up Christmas decorations.

On Christmas day we opened our presents.

I got the flute from Hagrid, a lumpy package which had a Weasley sweater and a large box of home-made fudge from MRS. Weasley, a large box of Chocolate frogs from Hermione, a book about Animagi from Sirius, and a book about Legilimency and Occlumency from Remus, and finally, my invisibility cloak from Dumbledore.

It had been so long since I had worn it. I stroked it lovingly and put it on.

When Sirius saw the cloak, he smiled and shouted, "James cloak, yes! Now you will be able to prank more people and go sneaking off at night."

It had taken a lot of time but I had made a picture of the four Marauders for Sirius and Remus. I went to the drawing room and hung it on the wall.

The full moon hung in the sky. The stag, grim, doe and the werewolf ran happily through the woods and they were at intervals chewing the rat and then letting it go, only to attack the rat all over again. They chased the rat for a while before they each grabbed the rat with their teeth and pulled. The rat was in four pieces in a couple of seconds, and they all spat the pieces of the rat on the ground and stamped on them. The rat was crushed to a pulp in seconds.

The words traitor flashed in different colours before the scene played out again.

When the marauders had seen it, they had become very still and quiet.

Suddenly, Remus and Sirius hugged me and I struggled in their arms.

"I can't breathe!" I gasped out and they let me go.

"This is the best gift we have ever received, haven't we Moony?"

Remus nodded beaming at me and ruffling my hair. "Of course Padfoot. This is the very best. I love the way how Wormtail gets killed by Prongs, Padfoot, Lily, and Moony. Brilliant Harry. You are the best."

The twins had been attracted by my gift and their eyes widened when they saw the words on the side. "Messer's Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs." They whispered hastily to each other and then came quickly to me.

"Harry, who are they?" Fred had asked urgently gesturing towards the joyous animals running around the rat.

"Prongs is my dad, Sirius is Padfoot, Remus is Moony, and Pettigrew was Wormtail. That vermin Wormtail actually lived at your house for four years. I believe he was known as Scabbers the rat.

I am thankful that Fred Smith managed to get hold of Dumbledore and get him put in Azkaban where he rightfully belongs.

He was a Marauder before he turned traitor and broke the bonds of friendship when he betrayed my parents to Voldemort. He has no right to call himself a Marauder anymore."

After a couple of minutes of silence, the twins, much to my amusement had gone and fallen at Sirius, Remus, and my feet.

"Hail to the great Marauder's.

"It is indeed a day of joy to behold one of your idols in front of you."

"Hail to Moony."

"Hail to Padfoot.

Hail to Prongs junior."

"STOP! What are you two doing?" Sirius bellowed totally confused when the twins went on.

"Oh Lords and Masters of pranks,"

"We found the Marauder's Map,"

"Last year in detention,"

"With Filch.

Look at this George, we never thought that we would actually be In the presence,"

"Of the Marauders,"

"Yeah Fred, they are our role models,"

"Our heroes,"

"The best, "

"Stop! Stop!" Sirius was laughing helplessly along with Remus. And then the Marauders promised to make one for me and my friends and another for the twins and their friends.

We decided that once the new maps were made then the old one would be given to Remus and Sirius.

The rest of the time past very quickly.

Percy and Remus talked about the prefect duties.

They learnt new things from each other.

Ron, Neville, Sirius, Remus, the twins along with myself played Quidditch, chess, and learnt new pranks.

Neville was reluctant to play at first because he was not able to fly but he borrowed my Nimbus 2000 and got extra flying lessons from Sirius.

He was not perfect but he was good at flying by the end of the holidays.


	5. 4: The End Of First Year

Chapter Four: The End Of First Year.

Review answers.

Isabeziers: Thanks for putting the meanings of trader and traitor. I have edited the chapter and changed a few things in it.

David305: Thank you for telling me the spelling mistakes. I have fixed them.

mizzrazz72: Draco definitely does not like Ron. In fact, both of them hate each other's guts. I just put that in the chapter because I have seen stuff like that. When a person insults another person just because they don't have the nerve to ask out the person who they like but it is very rare. Talking about Ron and Draco, I will write Ron as a better character because I don't really like cannon Ron. I get it. The guy is insecure and is jealous of Harry because he has the fame, money, and girls who want to go out with him where as they don't really pay attention to him because he is just Harry Potter's sidekick. He is overshadowed by his brothers and because of that, he feels that he is not good enough. Only thing is, he doesn't do anything to actually get what he wants. He doesn't do his homework properly, he doesn't like studying, and when Hermione tries to make him work, he just snaps at her. How can he achieve something without actually doing anything? That is why, my Ron is going to be a better person. Him and Hermione will still not be going out because that just doesn't make sense. They don't really have much in common anyway.

As for Draco. He will still be bad in the beginning but towards the end of the book, he won't become good either. He will be somewhere in the middle, I guess.

Hunzbookwyrm: I'm glad that you like my story.

ObsessedWithHPFanFic: You're welcome.

Geekymom: I'm glad that you enjoy the story.

Nanettez: I have changed the word from trader to traitor and have also made a few miner changes in the chapter.

Author's note.

Some of you may be wondering if Harry will reveal his old life to Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and his friends.

Yes that will happen. Harry will tell Sirius and Remus all about it after first year and after teaching his friends oclemency in second year, he will tell them about his old life as well. Dumbledore and maybe Snape will find out after Voldemort is defeated.

I will also diverge from cannon from second year onwards.

Some of you may also be wondering why Harry hasn't brought up all the stuff about the philosopher stone. That is because he is going to remove the stone and Harry disguised as Fred Smith is going to kill off Quirrell when he attempts to go and get it.

Chapter Four: The End Of First Year.

Ten weeks before the exams, Hermione started drawing up study schedules for herself.

We didn't mind but she kept nagging us to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away," I said.

"Ten weeks, that is not ages away," she snapped.

"Calm down," I said, Don't get so stressed about it. You know most of the stuff anyway.

"Don't get so stressed about it!" she shouted, you do realize that we have to pass the exams to get into the second year. They are very important. I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what has gotten into me.

"I don't deny that the exams are important, I know they are, but what I'm trying to say is, don't just start studying all day. Have some fun as well."

It was times like this when I really wished that Hermione should have also been sent back along with me.

Ron started arguing with her and I wondered not for the first time how they could have started going out with each other because neither of them had much in common. The only conclusion that I could come to was that they had started dating because of the war.

I immediately stopped my train of thought.

Why was I even thinking about this? It was none of my business why they were going out.

" But Hermione," I heard Ron wining.

"Enough," I said. Ron, Hermione is right. The exams are coming closer and we do need to prepare for them.

"I hate to disappoint you mate but I agree with Hermione," Neville said, we really need to start studying from now if we want to pass our exams.

Because the teachers were thinking along the same lines as Neville and Hermione, they piled so much homework on us that the Easter holidays were not as fun as the Christmas ones.

It was very hard to relax with Hermione next to us reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements to spells and charms.

Moaning and yawning, we spent most of our free time in the library with her, trying to get through all our extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window.

I didn't look up until I heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing here?"

Hagrid shuffled into view hiding a book behind his back.

"Jus' lookin'," he said in a shifty voice that got our interest at once.

He disappeared in a section and soon returned with another book before leaving the library.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"I'll see what section he was in," Ron said.

Neville followed him and in a few minutes Neville came back followed by Ron.

"What's wrong Neville?" Hermione asked in concern after she saw his fearful face.

"DDragons," Neville stuttered, he was looking up stuff about Dragons. I know that he likes dangerous animals but you don't think that he would be thinking about raising a dragon?" He asked.

"Well, he did tell me that he always wanted to have a dragon when I first met him," I said.

Half an hour later when we knocked on the door of Hagrid's hut, we saw all the curtains closed.

"Who is it?" Hagrid asked.

"It's us," Neville responded.

Hagrid quickly let us in before closing the door.

Hagrid made us some tea and offered us stoat sandwiches, which we refused.

"Hagrid, can we have a window open?" asked Neville, "It's very hot.

"Can't, Neville, sorry.

"What's that?" asked Neville, as he looked in the fire.

"Aah, th," but Ron interrupted him.

"Where did you get it from, Hagrid? It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library. Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit. It's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here, how ter recognize diff'rent eggs. What I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

A few weeks later at breakfast time, Hedwig brought me a note from Hagrid.

Only two words were written on the parchment.

"It's hatching."

As soon as the bell rang after Herbology, myself along with Neville, Ron, and Hermione rushed towards Hagrid's hut at the edge of the forest.

Hagrid greeted us looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out," he said excitedly.

The egg lay on the table with deep cracks in it while we heard the dragon moving inside.

Suddenly, there was a scraping sound and the egg split open.

The baby dragon hopped onto the table.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face. He leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains, it's a kid. He's runnin' back up ter the school."

I groaned but went to the door to check out who it was just to be sure.

Sure enough, Draco Malfoy had seen the dragon.

I thought hard about what Hagrid had named him in the previous timeline but it was just not coming to me.

The next week, Neville, Hermione, Ron, and myself spent most of our free time reasoning with Hagrid.

"Just let him go," I urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die."

We looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered loud enough that Neville, Hermione, and I could hear him.

"Hagrid," I said quite loudly. Give it two weeks and the dragon is going to be as big as your house. Malfoy could go to his father about this at any moment. His father is on the board of Governors. You wouldn't want someone like Walden Macnair to execute him just because he is at Hogwarts, do you? How about you contact Ron's brother Charlie. He can take care of him at the dragon reserve and release in the wild once he is grown up.

Reluctantly, Hagrid agreed that we could send a letter to Charlie and ask him.

The next week dragged by.

On Wednesday, Hermione, Neville, and I were sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off my invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing us his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" I said, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The four of us put our heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron.

How are you? Thanks for the letter.

I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the dragon up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love: Charlie.

We looked at each other.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Neville. "It shouldn't be too difficult, I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

We argued for a while and finally decided that Hermione would stay behind while Ron and Neville along with myself went to give Norbert to Charlie's friends.

By the next morning, there was a hitch in the plan. Ron's hand had swollen to twice its usual size so he had to stay in the hospital wing.

Ron had left Charlie's letter in his book and so when Malfoy borrowed it, he saw the letter.

At midnight on Saturday, Neville and I walked to Hagrid's hut to get Norbert.

Norbert was packed and ready in the large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Neville and I covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it ourselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

Neville and I started levitating the trunk.

In the corridor beneath the tallest tower we saw professor McGonagall holding Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you."

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming. Him and his friends have helped the oaf Hagrid raise an illegal dragon, and they are planning to smuggle it out today, in fact they might be doing that as we speak!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on, I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy! Oh, and another ten points from Slytherin for insulting the gamekeeper."

After climbing up the steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower, we threw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again.

Fifteen minutes later, 4 broomsticks came swooping down.

""Lumos." I muttered and the end of my wand lit up.

After helping Charlie's friends buckle Norbert into the harness, we watched them fly away.

"I will put a silencing charm on our shoes so we don't get caught," I whispered to Neville. McGonagall might be keeping watch down stairs just in case.

Neville nodded.

"How do you know so many advanced spells?" Neville asked.

I stopped to think how I would tell Neville.

"Hermione and I have been wondering," he continued,

when you saw Hermione and I in the train, there was a look of recognition in your eyes.

There were many people that you could have invited into your compartment but why us? How did you know that I was using my father's old wand when I had never even told you? There are so many things that don't add up.

You sometimes mumble in your sleep."

"What?" I asked. W-what do I mumble in my sleep?" this was very concerning. I needed to put silencing charms around my bed. I thought.

"You say things like, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for all of you to die. Poor Teddy. He is orphaned just like me. I hope someone's looking after him. Who is Teddy?"

I looked at Neville for a minute, not saying anything.

It was hard to explain. For a moment I just thought of lying to him about it but I couldn't do that.

"It is a long story," I said eventually. "I can't tell you just yet. You, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and the rest of the Weasley's deserve to know the truth but now it is not the right moment. I swear that I will tell all of you next year.

Don't look professors Dumbledore and Snape in the eyes. They are both Legilimens.

Legilimens are people who can penetrate other people's minds.

They can glance at your thoughts, look at all your memories, plant false memories in there victim's mind, torture people with it, and if there is a strong enough link, they can also control their victim as well. I am sure that they wouldn't do that to you, but they could see your secrets, and if they saw us smuggling a dragon out of Hogwarts, we would then be in a lot of trouble and possibly expelled."

Neville's eyes widened in shock.

"Don't look Quirrell in the eye or at the back of his head either.

"I promise that I will tell you next year. Before I tell you though, you need to learn Occlumency so you can keep Dumbledore and Snape out of your mind. Your gran can teach you or you can learn it from me when I teach Ron and Hermione."

"I will learn it from you," he replied.

After I put the silencing charm on our feet, we put on the cloak and made our way to Gryffindor tower without getting caught.

In the next few weeks whenever Ron, Neville, Hermione, or I walked passed Malfoy, he would give us looks full of hatred.

On the night that Malfoy went to serve detention in the forbidden forest with Hagrid, I decided to go after the stone.

After opening the door of the third-floor corridor, I started to play the flute.

In a few seconds, Fluffy fell asleep.

Even after everything I had faced in the next 6 years, I was still afraid to face Fluffy.

I sighed and levitated the 3 headed dog off the trapdoor and stared down into the hole.

After unshrinking my broom, I went down the hole.

Burning the Devil's Snare without burning my broom was tough but eventually it was done.

After finding the correct key and going through the door, I pondered how to deal with the chess game. Not having Ron and Hermione was difficult but I had promised myself that I would not involve them in this. To many people had died last time, and I did not want them in harm's way.

I did not know if this was going to work so I took a deep breath, climbed onto my broom, and flew as fast as I could to the opposite side of the room.

Getting past the troll was easy. It went down with a few stunning spells and I was able to go to the next room where Snape's potion puzzle was.

As soon as I entered the room, purple flames shot up behind me and a black fire shot up covering the exit in front of me.

I read the piece of parchment that was lying on the table next to the 7 potion bottles.

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find.

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead.

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side.

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend.

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides.

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

I grabbed the smallest bottle and put the rounded bottle in my pocket.

I took a deep breath, drank the potion in the smallest bottle and went into the next room.

The Mirror of Erised was still there.

I closed my eyes and opened them again, looking straight into the mirror.

An image of my parents appeared.

Hot tears sprang up unbidden, and I took a deep breath. I knew the difference now between this and the real thing, but I could not help the pang of longing that I always felt at every glimpse of them. I reached a hand out to the glass and touched their faces.

The image changed.

A girl with red hair and green eyes along with a boy with untidy black hair and brown eyes stood in front of adult versions of Ginny and I. Hermione, Luna, and Neville stood behind us with Sirius, Remus, my parents, and the rest of the Weasley's.

The image changed. My reflection stared at me, winked and smiled at me, put it's hand in his pocket and pulled out a blood red stone.

The reflection winked at me again and put the stone back in his pocket.

As soon as the reflection put the stone in his pocket, I felt the stone drop into my own. I pointed my wand at the stone and muttered, "Geminio." Instantly, a duplicate of the stone appeared in my other hand. I wasn't sure how to do the next part. I closed my eyes and thought hard about putting the fake stone in the mirror. There was a brilliant flash of white light, and the stone flew from my hand and went into the mirror.

Now, I needed to get out of here and write a letter to Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel.

Back in the tower, I sat down on my bed in the dormitory and began to write.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Flamel.

My name is Harry James Potter. I am afraid that I have some unfortunate news to tell you. First though, I swear on my life and magic that everything I say in this letter is the truth and nothing otherwise.

I know you are probably wondering why I did that, as it is not normal for a young wizard, especially at the age I am, to make such an oath, please allow me to explain.

I am a time traveller. I have not used a time-turner to turn back time. My situation is a bit complicated.

Cutting a long story short because I don't have much time, I have come back 16 years into the past. In my 4th year Voldemort returned and the second war began. Cedric Diggory was the first casualty just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The minister for magic, Cornelius Fudge dragged mine and professor Dumbledore's name through the mud at the end of 4th year until the end of 5th year just because he did not believe that Voldemort had returned.

In my fifth year, Dolores Umbridge was our defence against the dark arts teacher who taught us nothing and gave many students including myself detentions with blood-quills. My godfather Sirius was also killed.

In my sixth year, professor Dumbledore explained to me about Voldemort creating Horcruxes because he wanted immortality.

He has so far created five of those vial things, but he wanted to create seven because seven is the most powerful number.

Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket have already been destroyed.

Tom Riddle's diary will be given to Ginny Weasley sometime in August by Lucius Malfoy. I will make sure that it is destroyed.

Marvolo Gaunt's ring is currently in the Gaunt shack in Little Hangleton. Can you please retrieve that one? Because I am not experienced with the kind of wards that Voldemort has put up there. Professor Dumbledore was cursed when he put on the ring. I can't tell his story but he made mistakes when he was young and he wanted to see the rest of his family to apologise. Because the ring was the resurrection stone, he put it on, forgetting that it was a horcrux, and the curse travelled up his hand. Luckily, professor Snape stopped the curse from spreading. Unfortunately, the curse could only be contained for a year, so the professor had to die.

Ravenclaw's diadem is currently at Hogwarts in the room of requirement, also known as the come and go room.

In the previous timeline, myself along with my 2 friends began to find and destroy the horcruxs in the year which was meant to be our 7th year.

At that time, things were bad. Professor Dumbledore had been killed at the end of my sixth year and Voldemort had basically taken over the ministry.

Muggle-borns were being sent to Azkaban, getting kissed by dementors, or getting killed because they were accused of stealing magic from the pure-bloods.

We lost many good people.

Voldemort and I had a connection in the previous timeline.

After finding out that the last horcrux was in Hogwarts, we went there, and the final battle began.

After some time, Voldemort asked his servants to retreat and gave me 1 hour to give myself up.

I saw a few memories that Severus Snape gave me before he was brutally murdered by Voldemort's snake.

I found out that on the night Voldemort tried to kill me, he had unintentionally created an accidental horcrux which was a lightning bolt shaped scar on my forehead. I suppose when my memories came back, they destroyed the horcrux and so the scar healed.

I went to the forbidden forest and after killing a few death-eaters and Voldemort's snake, allowed him to kill me.

After I was hit by the killing curse, I was unconscious for some time. After waking up in Kings Cross station, I saw professor Dumbledore. Him and I had a chat and then I was given the option to either move on or go back to my body. I didn't want any of the 2 options so I asked him if I could go back in time. Because I was the master of all 3 of the deathly hallows, I was granted a second chance. I went back to my 15 month old body and I am determined to stop the second war from beginning, even if I have to sacrifice myself for everyone.

I am a Metamorphmagus and I use that to my advantage sometimes.

My alias is Fred Smith. Fred Smith has red hair and brown eyes and is an adult.

The other reason I am writing to you is because professor Dumbledore has your Philosopher's stone, which is currently here at Hogwarts. He created traps with the help of the other teachers in order to test me, or set a trap for Tom Riddle, self-styled Lord Voldemort.

I got past the traps and have retrieved the stone, which is sitting here with me as I write this letter.

By removing the stone from the 3rd floor corridor, I have insured that Voldemort's spirit shall not use the stone to gain a new body.

I swear on my magic that I will not use your stone. Immortality is the last thing that I need. I don't have any desire to turn metal into gold either.

If professor Dumbledore is, indeed, testing me, then he is doing it because a prophecy was made shortly before I was born and was told to me at the end of my fifth year by him.

The contents of the prophesy is this.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

I'm sure in your many years of experience, I don't have to tell you that prophecies can be non-existent,, self-for filling, and can also be interpreted in many different ways.

I don't think that we need to worry much about the prophesy right now.

I'm not afraid to admit that I was sad when you died in the previous timeline and I don't want that to happen again. The stone was destroyed after professor Quirrell attempted to steal it for Voldemort who had been possessing him. Professor Dumbledore told me that he had already talked to you about it and all of you had agreed that it was for the best that the stone was to be destroyed.

His exact words were, 'The stone has been destroyed. Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best. They have enough elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die.

To one as young as you, I'm sure it sounds incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, It really is like going to bed after a very long day. After all, to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the stone was not really such a wonderful thing.

Immortality and As much money in life as you could want. The two things most human beings would choose above all. The trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.'

If you already knew about the professor's plan then I am sorry for ruining it. However, I believe that this is not the case.

The stone is in this package.

Please understand that I love professor Dumbledore like a grandfather, but I don't agree with some of his decisions.

Thank you for your services to the Wizarding world.

Good luck with whatever you decide to do next.

Yours sincerely: Harry James Potter.

After rereading the letter, I sent it off with Hedwig after going to Hogsmeade because I was not sure if the old man had put up wards that would activate when the philosophers stone was mentioned.

The exams came and went, and I followed Quirrell to the 3rd floor corridor.

I approached the door. It was a jar. I entered just as the music died away.

Past the Devil's Snare, flying keys, chessboard, the troll and the potion puzzle, we finally entered the room where the mirror of Erised and the fake philosophers stone was.

"The game is up Voldemort." I said.

"W-w-w-who are y-y-you?" stuttered Quirrell.

"None of your business Quirrell. By the way, drop the act. I know that you have Lord Voldemort on the back of your head.

"let me speak to him." Voldemort's muffled voice came from the back of Quirrell's head.

"But master, you are not strong enough."

"I am strong enough for this." Voldemort said. I would like to face the boy who dare stand in my way.

Quirrell unravelled his turban and I saw Voldemort's face.

"Who are you, boy?" he asked.

"None of your business Voldemort. I am here to delay your return. If you really must know, I am Fred Smith.

I will prove your followers wrong. I a muggle-born will stop you."

As soon as I finished talking, I grabbed Quirrell by the throat, bound and disarmed him, and started punching Voldemort's face.

Without my scar bothering me, I kept punching and punching, enjoying Voldemort's screams of pain before I pulled out a knife which was actually my wand that I had transfigured, and slit Quirrell's throat with it.

"Nooo!" cried Voldemort, and his spirit moved toward me.

"Avada kedavra!" The jet of Green light left my wand and went through the spirit which made him scream in even more agony before he floated away, out of the school.

I put on my cloak and ran as fast as I could back to Gryffindor tower.

I nearly collided into Dumbledore but thankfully, he was too distracted to notice me.

A few days later, Percy came to me.

"Potter, professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office.

The password is Lemon Drops."

I nodded and proceeded to Dumbledore's office.

After giving the password to the gargoyle, I climbed up the staircase and knocked on the office door.

"Enter," said Dumbledore in a quiet voice.

I opened the door and went into the office.

Dumbledore was in his usual spot behind his desk, and Fawkes was sitting on his perch just like countless other times that he had been when I was there.

"Ah, Harry, my boy. It is good to see you. Do sit down."

"Thank you sir," I said before taking a seat.

"How were your classes this year."

"They were good professor. A bit challenging at times, but I like it that way. How else am I supposed to learn?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I am so glad that you enjoyed them. His face grew serious. "I am afraid I have some very serious news to tell you."

"What is it Professor?" I asked with a curious face plastered on. I felt Dumbledore trying to see my thoughts. I let Dumbledore see only my curiosity. I was curious. I didn't know how much Dumbledore was going to tell me after all.

"Well, I am sure you are wondering what happened to professor Quirrell."

"Well, yes sir. Everyone is. That is all anyone could talk about in the common room." I let the images of my friends and fellow students talking in the background while I was doing my homework go through my mind.

"Well, Harry, I am not sure, but I suspect that he was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

"What?" I said. I thought that he died when he failed to kill me on that Halloween night."

"Unfortunately he didn't die. I suspect that he is still alive"

Dumbledore started to speak but then the fireplace turned green and 2 people came out of it looking angry.

He looked at them, and I was pleased to see all the colour drain from his face.

"Harry. We will continue this conversation some other time. He pointed to his door and I walked out of his office.

After doing a wandless listening charm, I put on my cloak and listened.

"Ah, Nicolas and Perenelle. What can I do for you today?"

"You can tell us why you decided to hide the stone in the 3rd floor corridor and make all the protections easily passable."

"Well, I was going to use the stone as bate to lure Tom out of hiding. That was the whole point of me keeping the stone at Hogwarts after all. I knew that the protections were easily passable. I wanted it that way.

I thought that all the protections would keep Voldemort busy until I got there. The only person that could get the stone out of the mirror would be the person who doesn't wish to use it."

My plan was brilliant, draw Tom to Hogwarts and then capture him. Once I figured out how Tom was immortal, I would then take steps to prevent him from escaping, take Harry to the ministry of magic, and then make him throw Tom through the vail of death, but I see that my plan did not work because of that blasted note.

How could I have fallen for that pathetic trick? I should have known better.

The minister of magic often needs my advice. By the time I realised that the note was fake, it was too late. I am very sorry but I do not know where your stone is."

There was silence for a few seconds. Then Nicolas yelled, "You idiot!" what if Voldemort had figured it out and had sent someone who didn't want to use the stone to take it for him?"

"He couldn't have, it was,"

"Do you have any idea of what you nearly had done? Because of your foolishness, Voldemort could have gotten a body again.

Why did you have Voldemort in the same place as the students?"

"Well that was the only way to,"

"Silence!" yelled Perenelle.

"All the students were in danger because of that madman and yet you can only say that this was the only plan to capture him?

You could have done this during the holidays if you really wanted to bring him into this school.

"We're lucky that we have got the stone." Nicolas pulled it out of his pocket.

"W-who took the stone?"

Nicolas frowned and spoke, "Albus, a young man named Fred Smith told us about it. We are glad he did, because we both did not know that you were endangering students and staff with it."

"Fred Smith, you say?" Dumbledore asked.

Is it possible for me to meet him?"

"We are very disappointed in you, Albus. Perenelle said. In all our years, we didn't think that you would do something like that.

We will be taking the stone with us. Don't worry, we will have it under the Fidelius Charm and no, we will not be giving the secret to anyone, especially you. As for Fred Smith, he is currently not very happy with you at the moment. He looked up to you once, but after all this, I don't think that young Fred would like to meet you."

After a few minutes Dumbledore said, "I have thought about it and I do realize that my plan was not going to work. All I wanted to do was to make young Harry's job easier. Nicolas and Perenelle, I am very sorry for the problems I have caused with your stone. I hope that you can forgive an old man for his mistakes?"

After a few seconds of silence, Nicolas said, "Albus, we accept your apology, but we want you to be more aware of what you do, especially when it comes to protecting the students and staff of this school."

There were a few seconds of silence then Dumbledore spoke, "Thank you for that, it won't happen again."

"Very well. Are you aware that Voldemort has created multiple Horcruxes?"

"He has what?" Dumbledore whispered. He has created about 5 HORCRUXES. He wanted to create 7 but luckily, Harry stopped him before he did that.

Fred has the rest of the horcruxes which he will destroy, but there is 1 horcrux that we need your help with.

It is a ring in the Gaunt's shack in Little Hangleton.

Maybe we can go and destroy it sometime during the holidays?"

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore said.

"We shall see each other in the holidays." Perenelle said.

"Oh Tom, what have you done?" I heard Dumbledore whisper.

I heard Nicolas and Perenelle walking towards the door so I moved away and saw the two people exit the office. They turned and looked at me.

Nicolas spoke.

"Mr. Potter, my name is Nicolas Flamel and this is my wife Perenelle, thank you for your letter. We both had the pleasure of knowing your parents, it was sad when we lost them."

"Thank you, I still think about them a lot."

By this point, we had moved away and Nicolas cast some very powerful privacy charms.

"Mr. Potter,"

"Please call me Harry."

"Harry, Perenelle and I were aware that you had cast that listening charm on the office door and we are also able to see through Invisibility cloaks."

I have cast privacy charms so no one will be able to hear us.

Now, we would like you to give us the diadem. We would like to help you get rid of Voldemort. You alone are no match for him and his death-eaters."

"Okay." I said and took them to the seventh floor where I paced up and down the corridor thinking, I need the room of hidden things, I need the room of hidden things, I need the room of hidden things, and the door materialised in front of me.

We were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.

Nicolas, Perenelle and I started searching the different aisles.

Deeper and deeper in the Labyrinth I went, trying to remember where I had hidden my potions book.

There it was, right ahead, the blistered old cupboard in which I had hidden my old Potions book, and on top of it, the pockmarked stone warlock wearing a dusty old wig and what looked like an ancient dis-coloured tiara.

"Can you please destroy this with the ring?" I asked.

"Yes." Perenelle said. In fact, that would be much easier because then we wouldn't have to cast the Fiendfyre twice, and Albus won't have any doubts about the Horcruxes not being destroyed.

Well, it was nice meeting you, Harry. We shall see you later.

If you need any help destroying more of the abominations then please let us know."

"I will," I said, and with that, Nicolas and Perenelle departed.

A few days later, I had gone to the Quidditch pitch and the game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had begun.

The game had lasted for half an hour. A seventh year who's name I did not know was the seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

Gryffindor had won by 100 points to 90, and Gryffindor was awarded the house cup. Oliver Wood and the rest of the team had then hugged me, and carried me on their shoulders.

At the moment we were in the great hall, and Dumbledore was about to speak.

"Another year gone, And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts.

Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus.

In fourth place, Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty-two points.

In third place, Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty-two points.

In second place, Gryffindor with four hundred and thirty points.

In first place, Slytherin, with four hundred and forty-two points.

Slytheren wins the house cup!"

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. I could see Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

A few days later, the exam results came.

Neville, Ron, Hermione and I passed with good marks.

Suddenly, wardrobes were empty, trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in one of the toilets, we got notes warning us not to do magic all over the summer holidays, Hagrid was there to take us down to the boats, and we were boarding the Hogwarts express.

We were talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier, eating Berttie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as we sped past Muggle towns, pulling off our robes and putting on jackets and coats, the train was pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.

Sirius and Remus met us on the other side of the barrier.

As I was being hugged by Sirius and Remus, Ron said, "The three of you must come stay this summer. I'll send you an owl."

After thanking Ron, I heard Ginny's voice.

"There he is, look! It's Harry Potter! Mom, can I go and meet him please?"

Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point!" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Busy year?" she asked.

"Yeah it was very busy," I said. "Thanks for the fudge and sweater.

"Oh, it was nothing dear," she said.

Sirius and Remus made their way back to us. They were talking to Fred and George about pranks.

After seeing both of them grinning at the Marauders, I knew that Sirius and Remus had given them a list of pranks.

Life couldn't be any better, I thought as we made our way back home.

Author's note 1: This is the end of year one. Those of you who have enjoyed this story thus far, thanks for taking the time to read it.

I know that this year did not have much action in it and had a lot of things taken from the actual HP books. In my opinion, it was necessary for Harry to keep his knowledge of the future hidden, because I did not want Voldemort to take a special interest in him.

Author's note 2: If you were looking for a time travel story in which everything goes as Harry wants it to, Voldemort and his minions are either dead or in prison, and everyone has a happily ever after, then this story is probably not for you. I have read many stories like that. For example in Harry Potter and the Trip to the Past by Priya Ashok, and Oh God Not Again! By Sarah1281, some things change, and the timeline is intact, none of the good guys die, and everyone has a happily ever after. But I am going to change things around for my story. It's not that I want to kill off the good guys, or I don't want the story to end with a happily ever after, it's just that I want the timeline to change, because meddling with time is a very big thing. Even a little thing can change a lot in the future. I will kill a few good guys as well as the bad guys. Right now, I have got three ways that the story can go.

The diary is not given to Ginny Weasley, but somehow finds itself in Gilderoy Lockheart's things. He rights in it, the chamber is opened, and he eventually dies and Tom Riddle comes out of the diary. The younger Riddle then finds his elder counterpart in Albania, resurrects him, and both Riddle's start up the second war. They both eventually get defeated in fifth year in the department of mysteries.

Pettigrew escapes Azkaban, kill's a few people at Hogwarts including Sirius or Remus, and things happen as they did. Pettigrew finds Voldemort in Albania, Harry gets entered in the tournament, everything happens the same except Voldemort and the death-eaters who have escaped prosecution die in the graveyard, and Cedric is not killed. I won't be doing that.

Harry gets rid of all the Horcruxs and Voldemort never returns.

I am most likely to go through with the first option or another option if it comes to mind.

Author's note 3: I won't be updating this story for a few months because I have not read the HP books for a few years, and the details are slipping my mind. I will first read all seven books and then update.


End file.
